


Where There is Darkness

by Highlander_II



Category: Van Helsing (2004)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bondage, Caning, Community: scifibigbang, M/M, Non Consensual, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-08
Updated: 2010-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:55:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highlander_II/pseuds/Highlander_II
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens if Van Helsing doesn't defeat the Dracula beast and is taken prisoner instead? Carl and Anna have to locate Van Helsing and rescue him from Dracula's clutches before The Knights of the Holy Order learns what is going on and sends another army of operatives after the rogue monster hunter. In the meantime, Van Helsing has to survive his incarceration without losing his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Beautiful cover art by](http://h2smsk.com/images/longposter-byandrea.png)
> 
> [](http://sanadafaye.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**sanadafaye**](http://sanadafaye.dreamwidth.org/)
> 
> Trigger warnings: Non-consensual sexual encounters, mind control, bondage, spanking/caning, character death

The cloud moved and the moon shone bright again, almost burning into his flesh, tearing it away to free the beast beneath the surface. He made a lunge at the vampire, leaping into the air, clearing pieces of broken machinery, aiming for the throat with a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. When the feral part of his mind settled, he found himself pinned beneath the clawed foot of the Dracula beast.

Eyes wide, he looked around, hands grabbing for the ankle above the foot to remove it from his chest, to no avail. The creature was heavy and pushing down on his ribcage. A half-strangled gasp escaped his throat and he chanced a look to the window - the clouds were sliding slowly away to expose the full moon and he could feel the beast clawing to break free again. His eyes shifted to the clock as the last stroke of midnight echoed through the tower.

Van Helsing's heart sank as he felt the beast tear through him, pulling the humanity away and the beast bursting forth. He flipped the Dracula beast onto its back. The werewolf pounced and landed square in the middle of Dracula's chest, snarling down in his face, drool dripping to the floor.

The Dracula beast shoved the werewolf off himself and got to his feet, changing back into Dracula-the-man as he stood. His laughter was deep and hollow. "This could not have happened better had I planned it myself." He smiled as he stepped closer to the werewolf. "Come, my pet. Come to me." He waved the werewolf to him.

As much as he tried to resist, he found himself crossing the laboratory floor to Dracula purely because he was called. _No! NO! This can't be happening!_ Every inch of his soul told him not to move, begged him to change back, to attack, to do anything but walk right up to the vampire and be scratched behind the ears. It was a disgrace.

"Magnificent!" Dracula howled and could feel the energy, the power he now held over the lupine creature at his feet. Not only did he have a new werewolf under his command, he now controlled _The Great Van Helsing_.

* * *

Carl stared in shock, the silver stake clenched in his hand, poised to make that death strike, but Van Helsing was already lost and Dracula was still alive. Blinking in realization, he slowly stepped backwards, into the shadows, away from Dracula and his new 'pet'. He grabbed Anna's arm, pulled her with him as he backed away. He knew Anna would try to administer the antidote still and he could not let her do that. He needed that antidote to develop a new cure for Van Helsing - and maybe other werewolves as well.

_Keep fighting, Van Helsing. I'll be back for you._ Carl tugged harder on Anna's arm, kept hold even as she tried to break free.

"Let go of me," she hissed.

Face stern, he growled back, "No. We must get out of here before we're made into dinner."

"What about Van Helsing?"

"I can't help him here. Please, we must go now, before we are noticed. Anna, please, I can help him, but not if we die before I have the chance." He pulled harder on her arm.

She held up the werewolf anti-venom. "What about this?"

Carl's eyes opened wide. "Bring it with us. I need that." To keep her from doing anything foolish, he pushed her ahead of him so he could watch her.

The plan had gone horribly wrong. Van Helsing was supposed to kill Dracula, then get the cure, not be stuck as Dracula's lap dog - literally. Time had been against them, as had the weather. A cloud had covered the moon just as Van Helsing had leapt for the death-blow against Dracula, reverting him to the naked-man state and allowing him to be caught beneath the heavy foot of the castle's master. Now there was nothing he could do for his friend but hope and pray.

He felt himself pressed against the wall with a strong, but slight arm. He scowled and turned to Anna. A finger pressed against her lips, she whispered, "Quiet. Dwergi. They won't bother us if they don't see us. They're busy working."

Carl peered around Anna and watched the little creatures shuffling about their duties. He couldn't understand what they were saying, but he did recognize the pieces of machinery they were hauling. "Where are they going with the machine?"

"I don't know, but we shouldn't wait around to find out."

As much as he wanted to know where the Dwergi were going, he wanted to be out of the creepy castle more. A thought occurred to him as they entered the long entry hall. "Uh, Anna, how do we get back to Castle Valerious? We can't go through the mirror again, it closes on this side."

"What?" she snaps at him. "Why didn't you mention this before?"

Carl frowned at her. "Don't yell at me. I'm not the one who decided to walk through the thing without determining if a return trip was possible."

"I'm sorry, Carl. He came here to help me and now look where he is!"

Her frustration was beginning to show, he could see that clearly. However, he needed to make sure it stayed under control. Neither of them would be able to help Van Helsing if they both died. He gave her a firm look. "I know. But there's nothing we can do here. We have to get back to Castle Valerious so I can do some research. Now help me find a way out of here!"

* * *

Dracula had locked him in a room with only a small window in the door and had spent the last several hours watching him change from wolf to man and back again. Van Helsing prayed for dawn to break so the painful changes would stop, but it seemed that night would go on forever here. All of his attempts at escape had failed. All of his attempts at sleep had failed. A small glimmer of hope had come when he thought of Carl and Anna, even that had faded as quickly as the clouds over the moon. There was nothing either of them could do for him. He was a monster and would be until someone killed him. With that realization, all fire and passion to escape fled him. The only time he displayed any aggression at all was when in wolf-form.

"Come, my pet, you are to entertain me. How can I be entertained if you lay about on the floor and do nothing?"

Van Helsing groaned, but didn't move. His body ached, his head throbbed and he had neither the strength nor the desire to move. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept - had it been yesterday? The day before? Or the day before that even? And he dared not fall asleep here, now, because the cloud cover would shift again and the werewolf would tear free, waking him.

The transformation was much more painful than he could ever have imagined. He hadn't noticed when he was fighting Dracula, but now that he was unable to fight, in need of rest, each time he changed was more excruciating than the last. His screams reverberated around the heavy stone walls and mixed with the hollow laughter from Dracula just on the other side of the door. He wanted to leap at the door, break through it and beat Dracula to a pulp, but he didn't have the energy. He hardly had the energy to breathe, much less fight.

"You will come to entertain me, Gabriel. For now, I will dance to your screams. It is still several hours until dawn and the clouds continue to roll. I will delight in your pain." Dracula peered through the small window in the door, studying the broken figure on the floor. "You will make an excellent pet, old friend." He then backed away from the door as another transformation brought screams to his ears.

Van Helsing's wolf form emerged and immediately smashed against the door, denting it. He snarled when he saw someone coming down the hall with a large electrical prod. The man, wisely startled and took a couple steps away from the door. Van Helsing-wolf licked his chops and felt the sudden realization that it had been several hours, at least, since he'd last eaten and this morsel would make a decent filler.

"You fool!" Dracula thundered and struck the man across the jaw. "You are not permitted anywhere near this one. If you touch him, I will kill you."

Frightened, the man dropped the electrical prod and ran off down the corridor. Van Helsing, however, wasn't sure how to take that - was Dracula protecting him or wanting to torture him himself? Obviously the clouds had rolled in again, the wolf had subsided and Van Helsing found himself scrabbling at the door to stay on his feet a moment longer. He failed. He hit the floor with a thump and promptly passed out from exhaustion.

Dracula peered through the window and his voice carried the barest hint of concern, "Gabriel, for your sake, I hope the skies darken and cloud-over." He had been enjoying the torturous screams of his former adversary, but he knew something Van Helsing did not. At some point, he might reveal this secret, but for now – there were more screams to dance to.

* * *

"How did you know that was a doorway?" Anna asked as they descended the tower staircase.

"I didn't. I guessed. I was right. Does it matter?" Carl responded, eager to get as far away from Dracula's creepy icy fortress as possible. He hoped his return trip would be less eventful and more successful. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to pray."

Anna nodded. "Of course. I'll leave you in peace. Come downstairs if you would like dinner later."

Carl nodded in return, then retired to the room he was using to do his research, knelt by the couch and folded his hands together. "Heavenly Father... I pray for him now because he was doing what was asked of him and may be unable to pray for himself. Like always, Father. He always does what they ask, even if it means he may not be coming back. This time, he might not come back. He's a prisoner and I don't know how to save him. He needs my help and I need Yours. I also need time. Keep him alive long enough for me to figure out what I need to do. Don't let him lose his will. He needs You more than he would ever admit - or know. Forgive him, Father, for not talking to You on his own, someday he will. He'll be back. In the meantime, please, help me help him."

Carl continued his prayers for the next hour, stopping only when Anna entered the room to ask if he wanted to eat. "I probably should eat something, yes." He rose slowly and grabbed a book on his way out, but he did manage to, at least, join Anna for dinner.

Anna placed her fork beside her plate. "You've been awfully quiet. Have you found anything useful?"

Solemnly, Carl shook his head, but didn't look up from his book. "No."

"Need any help?" Anna was growing more and more concerned about Carl – and Van Helsing.

"No." Carl stood from his chair, book still in hand. "Would you like me to help clear the table?"

Anna shook her head gently. "I'll take care of it, thank you."

"Thank you for dinner," he looked at her over the book. "I'm sorry I wasn't better company, but if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of research to do."

Anna smiled sadly as Carl left the dining room. Would he be able to save Van Helsing or would their only option be to go back to Dracula's castle and kill him? She didn't want Van Helsing to die, but she considered the alternative and death would be a reprieve.

* * *

"Sunset comes so early here, does it not, Gabriel?" Dracula asked through the tiny window in the door. "You see, it's nearly always winter here and the days are so short." He turned to lean a shoulder against the door as he sighed. "And without my brides, my nights are so lonely. Whatever shall I do?"

"I don't care what you do," Van Helsing snarled back from his corner, trying to keep the chattering of his teeth to a minimum. It was so damned cold in the room. The stone walls were cold, the stone floor was cold and every time the wind blew, an icy draft would seep through the window in the door to swirl around the room, stirring up the air. Being naked didn't help any. "Just leave me alone."

Dracula laughed that same, haughty, dry laugh as before. "Oh, I don't think you quite understand, Gabriel. You are here for _my_ pleasure now."

A heavy scraping sound caused Van Helsing to look up sharply from his crouched position. Dracula had opened the door and was standing just inside the room. "Come with me, Gabriel."

"I'll go nowhere with you."

Dracula raised an eyebrow and quirked a smile. "Again, you fail to understand. I said _come with me, Gabriel_." He raised an arm and motioned with a hand.

The realization that he was following the command didn't reach him until he was standing directly in front of Dracula. He blinked and shook his head, trying not to shiver. "Wh- what have you d-done to me?"

A wicked smile crossed Dracula's lips. "My, my, Gabriel, I do believe I am going to enjoy this." He turned and stepped into the hall, entirely without fear. "Follow me, Gabriel."

As hard as he tried, Van Helsing could not prevent his feet from moving, his body from doing exactly as Dracula had commanded. It had been one thing when it was the werewolf following the commands, but now that he had lost control of his _own_ body and mind, the idea of remaining Dracula's prisoner for much longer was scaring the hell out of him.

The corridors were cold with heavy drafts whistling through the castle. Had he not been under the influence of whatever force Dracula was using, he wouldn't have been able to walk, his body was so chilled. He could feel his limbs shaking, shivering in the cold, but his feet kept going, following his _Master_. An involuntary shudder rocketed down his spine at that thought – Dracula was his master.

Dracula laughed. "Yes, my pet. You may be understanding yet. For now, come, I have ways of making you warm." He caught Van Helsing glancing at the window, seeking the view of the moon. "Worry not, my pet, you will not change tonight."

Van Helsing did not find that statement remotely reassuring.

* * *

When Anna found Carl again, he was asleep, face-down in his books. She draped heavy blankets over him to ward off the Transylvanian chill, lowered the wick of the lamp and left him to sleep.

The castle seemed so much colder and darker since they'd had to leave Van Helsing behind in Dracula's lair. She hated that she let it get to her. He was a warrior, he would fight for his freedom and it wouldn't do to have a Gypsy Princess wasting her time worrying over him. "I wish you well, Van Helsing," she whispered into the dark corridor on the way to her chambers. She too would need sleep to be able to help him.

The sunlight streaming through the window was vaguely warming and tickled Carl's nose, rousing him from his slumber. "Oh my." He looked down and found he had drooled on the book he had been reading. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he looked again and saw something he had missed the night before as he was fighting sleep. "This might be useful." He marked the passage with a bookmark and cross-referenced what he'd found in another series of texts.

Carl spent the majority of the day sifting through books and scrolls and parchments and anything he could get his hands on to fill in the blanks. He had pages of notes in his tight scrawl, with chemical formulae squeezed into what bits of margin were free of additional annotation. Though his fingers cramped and his eyes burned, he refused to give up until he'd found his answer. Even food was no persuasion at this juncture.

"Carl, you should eat at least. If you're not going to sleep. You need to keep your energy up." Anna was pleading with him yet again.

He waved a hand at her. "Not now. I think I've got something." And he would scribble for another page and a half, then drag another book over and begin the process again. "Leave it there, I'll eat in a bit."

Anna sighed. Five times he'd given her the same instructions and five times she'd returned to find the tray of food untouched. On this, the sixth trip back up, she decided to end his marathon. She set the food tray aside on a table, stalked to the desk and slapped her hand in the middle of the book he was reading. "Carl, I insist you stop now and eat something before I drag you out of here."

Annoyed, Carl growled up at her through his eyebrows, "I'm. Not. Finished."

Softly, calmly, Anna returned: "I know, but if you don't stop to eat, you won't be able to finish. What good would you be to him then?"

Exasperated, Carl pushed himself from the chair and stalked over to the tray of fresh food. He grabbed slices of cheese and crackers, stacked them together and bit into them as he stalked back to the desk. "Happy now?" he snapped, spewing cracker crumbs and curling back over the books.

Anna rolled her eyes and collected the tray of stale food on her way out of the room. "Better than nothing, I suppose."

* * *

Van Helsing had been nervous following Dracula down the hall; tied to the bed under Dracula's gaze amped that feeling up to terrified. He had been shoved down on the bed, his wrists and ankles bound and latched to the bedposts and left alone for several minutes while Dracula was entertaining himself elsewhere.

When had Dracula gotten a bed? Why would he need one? He sleeps in a coffin, right?

"Wondering about the bed, Gabriel?" Dracula dragged ragged fingernails along Van Helsing's leg. "Have you ever tried to have sex in a coffin?" There was that hollow laugh again. "Don't worry, everything is clean, Gabriel." His fingers passed Van Helsing's knee, crept up his muscled thigh and skimmed over a slender hip. The vampire had a plan. He could easily force Van Helsing to do his bidding - even in bed - but he preferred to break his enemy slowly.

The touches to his skin were simultaneously sensually erotic and revolting. There was a hint of pain, just enough to feel, but there was also the realization that it was Dracula touching him and _that_ made his skin crawl. He pulled against the restraints to avoid the hand on his skin, but it did no good, so he closed his eyes and turned his face away.

"Look at me, Gabriel." Dracula waited, hand still until the command was obeyed, reluctantly, but obeyed. "Good boy. I want you attentive."

"I don't want to be here," Van Helsing growled as he pulled at the restraints again.

Dracula laughed. "Yes, but _I_ want you here." And he drew a finger, slowly, down the length of Van Helsing's flaccid cock as he spoke, relishing both the shudder and the involuntary shift of his prisoner's hips. "Do you want more?"

"No!" Van Helsing cried, trying to hold back a moan. He hated that his body could take pleasure from anything an enemy would do to him - Dracula would do to him. Having gotten some sleep finally, his mind was far too alert to work at blocking out any of the disgusting sensations. Van Helsing was unsure which was more revolting, his body's reactions or the fact that it was an enemy causing them, teasing them out of him.

"No?" Dracula questioned. "I believe you are lying." Dracula licked a finger and circled it around Van Helsing's navel, trailed it lightly down toward his cock, but bypassed that in favor of smoothing the hand over his hip.

Van Helsing clenched his jaw to prevent sound escaping his throat. He heard something – a whimper – and wondered where the other prisoner was being held until he caught the smirking-grin on Dracula's lips. The whimper had come from himself. He was sickened at the thought of _desiring_ Dracula's touch.

He flinched and tried to pull away, rolled his hips as far as he could to avoid Dracula's wandering fingers. Then they were there, not just light grazes of fingernails, but Dracula's cold fingers curled around him, stroking him to hardness. He felt bile rise to the back of his throat and he closed his eyes tight, silently begging for Dracula to stop.

* * *

"Van Helsing?" Carl gasped as he raised his head. He thought he'd heard something nearby. Something that sounded like Van Helsing – possibly in pain, possibly begging, he couldn't be sure. It had only been for a moment. He wasn't even sure it was actually a sound and not part of his dream. A glance toward the ceiling and a whispered prayer, "I ask You again, please, bring him back."

It had been a long night and Carl had gotten only a little sleep, but he stood, stretched and stepped around the table. As he was heading for the door, he caught sight of something in the painting on the wall, but when he looked again, it was gone. "That was odd." He shook his head and continued downstairs.

"Carl?" Anna gasped as the friar rounded the corner. "I thought you had permanently locked yourself in the tower."

He smirked at her. "I can't be locked in the tower. You're the princess." His sarcasm was still asleep.

"Right. Breakfast?" She pointed toward the kitchen, then dragged him in behind her and pushed him into a chair. "Eat."

This time, Carl didn't argue. He was too hungry to argue. Though, he was uncharacteristically quiet during the meal – a combination of things - prayer, wishful thinking, scanning through the data in his head from the books, everything rolling at once and him trying to make sense of it all. The solution was there and he would find it.

Anna watched the friar clear his dishes and shuffle back into the corridor. "God speed, Carl. I hope you find the answers," she whispered behind him. Transylvanians may look on the brighter side of death, but she could see no bright side of being held as Dracula's prisoner. Dracula had killed her father and been mostly responsible for the death of her brother, plus the torture of the Frankenstein creature and the deaths of all those villagers when he sent his offspring out into the night. The vampire more than deserved his own demise and she would delight in helping bring it about – whenever it happened.

She did wish there was more she could do to help Carl, but each time she asked, he told her 'no' and that he could handle it fine on his own. Finished with breakfast, she went to Velkan's chambers. She remembered something he had mentioned when he had been searching for their father. Something about a key or a lock or a code. She was sure he had hidden it in his chambers. He had always hidden things there – secret panels in the walls and secret compartments that no one else in the family knew about – except Anna. She knew all Velkan's secrets.

* * *

"Look at me, Gabriel," Dracula commanded.

Van Helsing opened his eyes to find Dracula knelt between his legs, stroking a hand up and down his cock. The sensation drew moans of pleasure from his throat despite all his efforts to prevent them. His hips rocked up to gain more contact and he whimpered each time Dracula ceased his movements.

He hated the control Dracula had over him, the lack of control he had over his own body. Sexual arousal he had experienced before, but never at the hand of an enemy. At least, not like this. He remembered having gotten a sexual charge when fighting an enemy, or even sparring; he never understood why, but the fight would turn him on. Sometimes he would have distracting ways of dealing with it, sometimes not. But in Dracula's castle, tied to Dracula's bed, watching Dracula stroke him to dizzying madness – he wished he could find a distraction to take his mind away. He didn't want to be here with Dracula and surely not naked and aroused.

"Oh, Gabriel. So strong, so resistant. Why don't you let yourself go?" Dracula asked as he continued to slide his hand up and down Van Helsing's cock in an effort to draw an orgasm from him. Ultimate control.

Van Helsing grunted in reply. "I will fight you to the end."

Dracula laughed again. "Oh no, Gabriel, you won't." He stroked, firm and strong, and rubbed his thumb over the head of Van Helsing's cock. His free hand sneaked down to toy with the man's balls. "You will come for me, Gabriel. Just like you used to."

"No," he growled and tried to draw his hips away from the teasing hands. But it wasn't to be, the inevitable was fast approaching. He tried to keep it at bay, but Dracula's fingers playing at his cock and balls was more than he could handle. When he came, he spilled himself over Dracula's hand, screaming, howling with his head thrown back and his hips thrust up...

_...like you used to..._ Why did that sound so familiar to him? Why was there a feeling in the back of his head that he knew what Dracula was talking about?

"Yes," Dracula crowed and broke Van Helsing's train of thought entirely. "Yes, Gabriel, yes! Come for me!" He continued to stroke with one hand and drew the other up to catch the fruit of his labors, bringing fingers to his mouth to capture the familiar taste. The look on Dracula's face as he sucked his fingers clean was almost orgasmic itself. This was exactly what he had wanted.

Van Helsing was enraged. He wished it had all been a nightmare, but he knew in his mind, in his soul, that it hadn't been. The heated skin, the hollow laughter, the strangely relaxed feeling all told him it had been all too real. He wanted to escape into the walls, get away, be anywhere but under Dracula's control.

* * *

Book cradled in his arm, Carl stared out the window at the softly falling snow. _Where are you, Van Helsing? If there's a way, get yourself out. I'm coming up empty here. I won't quit, but I'm not gaining any ground. I miss you._ He lowered his head, shook it gently and sighed. At a complete loss, he still wondered if he had actually seen something in that painting. He glanced at it again, just to check, but nothing.

The books had turned up little of any help and the words had been starting to blur into contiguous lines of black for the last hour. He needed something – anything – a lead, a hint, a direction.

"Carl, are you all right?"

He heard Anna's voice at the door, but didn't turn away from the window. "Fine, thank you."

"Find anything yet? How to get him out? How to cure the werewolf?"

Carl shook his head. "No." He had been hoping for something from the books, but it was looking more and more like he would need to return to Rome to work on determining the chemical make-up of the anti-venom and make an attempt to replicate it, at least.

Anna sighed and put a hand on Carl's shoulder. He hadn't even realized she'd come that far into the room. "You'll be going soon, I can tell."

He nodded. "Yes. Back to Rome. I need my lab."

"I'll get the anti-venom." Anna started for the door, but turned back, "How are you returning to Rome?"

"The same way I arrived." Finally, Carl turned from the window. "I don't have much to pack. I need to be going before nightfall."

"I'll come with you." She held up a hand. "Before you object, I have every intention of doing what I can to help."

"Aren't you needed here?"

"What use would I be here? The brides and offspring are all dead and Dracula has his new toy."

The friar growled, burning with anger. "He is not a toy! Despite what that over-bearing, pompous ass of a bloodsucker thinks. He is a person and he's needed and I will get him back." Carl stormed past Anna to gather his few belongings and the few pieces that Van Helsing had left into his bag. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a long ride ahead of me." He pushed passed her and out the door.

"Carl… wait…" Anna followed closely behind him.. "Carl, I didn't mean it like that. I know how important he is. Carl –"

The friar was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Van Helsing curled himself into a corner. This room was new – again. How many had it been? He'd lost count after the first ten or fifteen times he had been tied to Dracula's bed and stroked off - sometimes to orgasm, sometimes just to the brink. He had hated all of it.

This new room was no better than the previous one. It was smaller, but still devoid of furnishings or even blankets. And it was still freezing. Some days his body shook so hard he couldn't sleep, the shudders woke him so abruptly he was afraid bones would break. Most days, he thought death would be better than this - even hell, at least he'd be warm.

Beyond the shivering, he felt violated. Dracula had taken control of not only his mind, but his body as well. The vampire had made him hard, made him come - just through touching. On some subconscious level, though, he had enjoyed it and _that_ scared him more than anything else. He didn't understand how he could take pleasure from something he found so revolting. Even the thought nauseated him.

He heard Dracula's hollow laugh and turned his face into the corner, not wanting to face the vampire again. He just wanted to be left alone, to find a way out or a way to die, despite the growing warmth in his groin and the desire to be someplace with heat.

"I can still see you, Gabriel. You cannot hide from me."

Van Helsing said nothing, trying to pretend Dracula wasn't there, trying to pretend it was all a dream. If it was a dream, he would wake up and kill whatever was torturing him, but if not, he would have to continue to endure being the source of Dracula's sexual gratification.

The only solace he found was that Dracula had not violated him in these cold, barren rooms. It was as close as he could get to Sanctuary. As long as he was in these rooms, he could send his mind off into a world where he was being tortured for information via more traditional means and not being sexually molested at the hands of an immortal enemy.

"Gabriel, why do you cower in the corner?" Dracula asked as he crossed the stone floor. He combed his fingers through Van Helsing's hair as he knelt beside him. His fingers caught under Van Helsing's chin to turn his head. "I know you are craving my attentions. I know that look you get. I've seen it before, my pet."

Lips close enough to kiss and Dracula made sure he could _feel_ how close they were. He licked his lips and could taste the stale air from the vampire's mouth. For a moment, he thought Dracula was going to kiss him.

"Gabriel, you belong to me now. There is nothing you can do to change that." Dracula closed his eyes and sniffed at Van Helsing's neck, took in the scent of his prisoner. One day he might even taste him. Then he commanded, "Get up. On your feet."

Van Helsing started, knocked his head against the wall and blinked against the pain. "Wh-what?" His teeth clattered together even after he was done speaking.

"Stand. Up," Dracula repeated.

He hesitated, then pushed himself to his feet, knees still wobbly from exhaustion and cold. Dracula slid hands along his sides and over his chest as he rose with him. That made Van Helsing shudder more. He yelped as Dracula's strong hand curled around his cock and began to stroke, long and slow.

_Please no. Not here. No._ Van Helsing's breath caught in his throat and he dropped his head forward in defeat. It took every ounce of energy he could muster just to hold back tears.

"What did I tell you, Gabriel?"

* * *

Carl stopped by his chambers to drop off his bags before his appointment with Cardinal Jinette. Memories ran thick as he stood in the doorway - he and Van Helsing arguing over weaponry or discussing a recent battle and how to better attack the next time that particular creature came up, telling stories of adventures - Van Helsing's monster related, Carl's sexual interaction related - over cups of warm brandy or walking the streets of Rome to see if anything interesting was happening or any pretty maidens were interested. He missed him. Sure, Van Helsing infuriated him to no end, but that was his problem to be handled on his own time, not by some egotistical vampire with an inferiority complex.

"Carl, the cardinal is waiting for you," the soft voice of a fellow researcher prodded from the doorway.

"Thank you, I'm on my way."

He gathered the book he needed and pulled the door closed behind himself. The walk to the cardinal's offices was long and required him to climb several flights of stairs, but it wasn't something he hadn't grown accustomed to. He rather enjoyed the walk most days. Today wasn't 'most days'. Today was the day he had to convince the cardinal to let him try to save Van Helsing. To say he was not looking forward to this appointment would be to understate the situation considerably.

"Carl, come. Please, have a seat," Jinette invited him in and waved to a chair.

Carl sat, book placed lightly on his lap. There was nothing special about the book, other than it was a collection of recent research notes he had been keeping. "I don't mean to take up much of your time, but I felt you should be apprised of the current situation."

Jinette nodded. "Of course."

The friar swallowed hard as he collected his thoughts. "Sir, Van Helsing was taken prisoner." Start small - he realized the less he said, the easier it would be to get what he needed.

"By whom?"

"Well, by Dracula." Carl tried not to wince; he knew the next line from Jinette could be hard to take.

"And has he been released?"

_That explains why I still have my head; Jinette thinks this is a mission debriefing. Say good-bye to my head now though._ "Not yet, sir. That's why I'm here."

Cardinal Jinette frowned. "Are you in need of a rescue party?"

"Not yet." The corner of his mouth twitched when he realized he had just said that. "I need to do some research first."

"The library is always at your disposal, Carl."

"Yes, sir. Thank you. But I will be needing to do chemical analysis."

"Why?"

This is why Carl and Van Helsing get along even after things go wrong: "Because I'm not sure I can get through the portal again the same way we did before. The same for returning from Dracula's lair. I have no way of knowing if the portals shift location or remain stationary." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the entire truth either.

"Very well. Do you require anything else?"

_That worked? That was too easy, I think. I wonder if he suspects anything?_ "A private workspace for ease of concentration would be beneficial."

Jinette laughed. "Do not press your luck, Carl."

Carl grinned. "I had to try. Thank you, sir. I'll get right on this." He nodded to the cardinal as he rose to leave, but stopped short at the cardinal's beckoning. "Yes, sir?" _Dammit - caught._

"Bring him back. We need him."

Carl bowed respectfully. "Of course."

"And Carl," the cardinal waited for Carl's attention, "how are you doing with developing a cure for the werewolf curse?"

"Oh, well," he tried very hard not to pause longer than necessary. "It's still in the early stages of development. And werewolves are not so easy to come by for testing. But I do hope to have something soon, your grace."

"Good. Carry on."

Another nod, then he turned and hurried out of the offices before his face flushed so hard it gave away his ruse. Though he really had no way of knowing how the portals worked, if they would at all, he had many more reasons to hide the fact that Van Helsing was a werewolf and under Dracula's control. Had he revealed that piece of information, Jinette surely would have dispatched another operative to 'take care' of Van Helsing and he couldn't let that happen.

* * *

After Dracula had left, Van Helsing couldn't hold back any longer and the tears flowed freely down his face and dripped to the filthy floor. He had had to shift corners as the one he had been kneeling in was full of come and vomit. It had taken him half the morning to move those six feet across the room on cold, shaky limbs. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to die.

He should have known that would never happen. He had just fallen asleep when he heard the door slide along the stone floor as it was opened. Eyes closed, hands covering his head, body curled into a ball, Van Helsing tried to pretend he was asleep. His body was shaking violently, but he couldn't tell if it was from cold or fear. Dracula's torture and control had broken him down and he had not yet had time to recover. The sense of loss and desperation angered him - he hated feeling out of control. He hated _being_ out of control.

"Oh, Gabriel..." Dracula semi-sing-songed as he stepped into the room. "I again require your services. You are such a good pet and the full moon is almost upon us. I need you to do something for me." Dracula knelt beside him, brushing a hand through his hair as he spoke. "I know you are not asleep, Gabriel." The hand in his hair tightened and drew his head up sharply. "I need you to visit a friend of mine who is in need of motivation." Dracula leaned in close and whispered in his ear, gave the series of instructions while still petting him like a dog. "Have a bite to eat while you're out, Gabriel. You need to keep your strength up."

Van Helsing was more than prepared to ignore the instructions he had been given, but the sudden twitching of nerves beneath his skin, the indication that the transformation was beginning, told him it would be impossible. The beast broke free with a heavy, hungry roar and raked a huge claw at the door. _I wish I could control it - I can't and I'll probably kill someone. This is not who I am. Carl, wherever you are - help me._

Laughing, Dracula opened the door again and needed only to give him a look to make him sit and be calm for a moment. Dracula pushed fingers through the heavy coat of fur, smiling to himself. "My, Gabriel, I may have to find you a playmate." The vampire sighed, then stepped from the doorway. "For now, you have an assignment. Go."

The werewolf licked his chops and bolted through the door and down the corridor. He bounded down the stairs and leapt through a window that overlooked what would've been a garden alongside a normal castle, but was a barren, frozen waste here.

The beast tore through the portal and landed in an isolated part of the Valerious castle. He scented the air to locate his prey and stalked the corridors as silently as possible until he found it.

"Oh dear God!" the portly man exclaimed upon seeing the beast crouched in the doorway. "He sent you, didn't he? To kill me. Because I haven't found what he wants yet. I'm sorry. I'm still searching. I just have very little time. The Princess, you see, she keeps me rather busy with the work around the castle. Please, spare me." The man had been backing away during his stammering and was now pressed against the back wall, his knees knocking together.

The werewolf snorted and turned to go, but spotted an open book on a nearby table. He approached and sniffed at the book, then looked imploringly at the sweating fat man in the corner.

The man stumbled over a few words, then said, "It's a journal. A family history. Pre-Boris, of course, given the wear of the book. I've been studying it to see if there is anything of significance that might lead to what the Master wants. So far, nothing."

With a disgruntled growl, the werewolf turned and left the room. To return to Dracula's castle, he would have to cross to the other side of the Valerious castle without being detected. He climbed to the roof and leapt between the towers to the far side of the castle. He carefully scaled the wall down to the balcony and nudged the door open with his nose.

The werewolf looked up sharply at the gasp heard inside the room and tried to remain still, hoping the blackness of night would be enough cover to hide him. He closed his eyes and kept his breathing shallow. From the scent, he knew it was Anna, but he didn't want her to see him like this.

"My God! Velkan?" she asked in shock as she stepped closer, peering at him through the darkness.

The werewolf turned his head away from her, fighting the urges to tear her to shreds or plead with his eyes for her to kill him. He just wanted to go back to his cold, dank hole in Dracula's castle and die. Anything to not have to face the people he was meant to protect.

Anna stepped closer. "No, not Velkan. Then who?" She tried to get a good look, but he snarled in her face to keep her away. Face set, she canted her hips to one side and bared her throat. "Bite me. Make me a werewolf. Turn me into what you are."

Curious, confused, the werewolf tilted his head at her, then snorted derisively and turned to exit to the balcony. As he stepped through the door, clouds covered the brightness of the full moon and his human form returned in a flurry of shed wolf-fur. Standing on shaky legs, Van Helsing nearly passed out from exhaustion, but braced himself against a wall.

"No. Van Helsing?" Anna gasped, hand moving to cover her mouth.

* * *

"Bring me that beaker," Carl called, waving a hand toward the other end of the work table.

He poured chemicals together, set them to simmer over a flame, then scribbled notes in a notebook and made several calculations while he waited. When the first mixture was complete, he started another and made more notes. This had been his routine for the last several days and he felt he was no closer to a solution than he had been when he began, yet still, he persisted.

"Do we have a test subject?" he asked his assistant.

"Um, not yet, Carl. We're still looking. It's difficult to capture a werewolf when there is not a full moon. More-so when the wolf tries to eat you."

Carl scowled. "But it is the full moon." Were these people just monumentally stupid or had he missed something?

"Yes, but that means we only have three days to capture the subject and get it here for testing. The rest of the month, it is difficult to find a suitable subject."

"Keep trying." _Less stupid than I thought._ "I can't test this without a subject."

The assistant nodded. "We are, Carl. We're doing the best we can."

Carl looked up in time to see the assistant disappear through the door.

A weapon being test-fired in the background made Carl close his eyes against a flood of memories. He had always been intrigued and mildly annoyed at Van Helsing's reactions to new weaponry. It saddened him to think many of these new items would be wasted on other operatives who lacked Van Helsing's appreciation.

He rested his head on his arms on the table. Working day and night for the last week had exhausted him, but he needed these answers. A gentle hand touched his shoulder and he lifted his head, hoping it was Van Helsing. He groaned at the realization that it wasn't.

"Carl, you should rest. You've been on this for days. Come on. You'll burn yourself out."

Carl said nothing, but rose and slipped past his fellow friar and made his way to his own small room. He sat on his bed, skipped the prayers and went straight for the tears. He wanted his friend back so badly. _He'll never know how much **I** need him._

* * *

"Anna?" Van Helsing gripped the wall, trying to remain upright.

"My God. We've been... I mean... are you – free?" Anna stepped closer, reaching out to him.

"Stop." He shook his head. "No. He'll call me back." Breathing hard, holding back the transformation as much as he could, he snarled at her. "You want to become what I am? To be imprisoned in a form you cannot control?" he asked in disgust. His guts lurched at the thought.

Anna shook her head in return. "No. I – I want to be with you." She took several breaths. "I didn't know of any other way. I didn't know this was you. Van Helsing…"

Teeth clenched, he held a hand toward her to keep her away. "Stay back. Stay away." Van Helsing backed up as far as he could. "I will never… I couldn't do that to anyone. I can't…"

She stepped towards him. "But – " her voice caught in her throat. "I – " she stopped where she was when he snarled at her as the transformation was beginning. For a moment, she feared for her life, but the werewolf growled, leapt past her and disappeared through an old mirror.

The werewolf tumbled into the icy castle and slid across the corridor. It slammed into the opposite wall with a solid 'thud'. Back on its feet, it stalked through the castle to locate its master.

"So, you have returned. I do hope Sergei is better motivated now." Dracula held out his hand, beckoning the beast to his side. He shook his head lightly. "You could have had a playmate – or a meal – but you left her alive. I will have to train you better, my pet."

The werewolf sat at the vampire's side, snarling, growling. When Dracula's hand sifted into its fur, it immediately fell silent. Inside, Van Helsing's subconscious was reeling; he wanted to be free of the beast, of Dracula's hold, of all of this.

"Come now, the moon is almost gone and I need you to entertain me for a few hours." Dracula led the werewolf, all sleek black fur and rippling muscles, back to his room. He waited, the picture of patience, for the moon to go down and the wolf to subside. He smiled as Van Helsing's exhausted, sweat slicked body slumped to the floor. "Would you like to be warm, Gabriel?"

Van Helsing didn't even have the strength to respond with a groan. He remained on the floor, limbs splayed as he had landed. Yes, he did want to be warm, but he really wanted to eat. He was starving – since he refused to kill as the wolf and Dracula had seen fit to only bring him a few crusts of bread – he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a decent meal. He also needed to sleep; without sleep he was too tired to even think about finding food.

Dracula, however, had other plans. Van Helsing wasn't sure when, exactly, Dracula had removed his own clothing, but the vampire was naked and kneeling on the floor over Van Helsing's head. Tiredly, he blinked up and saw Dracula's cock, erect and waiting, just above his face. He closed his eyes and turned his face away, holding back a wave of nausea. There was no way he would put that thing in his mouth, nor would he touch it. It was bad enough that Dracula was doing things to him, worse if Dracula made him do things in return.

Van Helsing's eyes popped open the instant he felt lips touch his own cock. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked without thinking.

The vampire stretched his tongue out to trace it around the head of Van Helsing's cock, licking and tasting. "Mmm- Gabriel, you may enjoy this nearly as much as I will." His head ducked back down to tease.

Sour-faced, Van Helsing closed his eyes again and turned his head as far from the scene as he could get it. "Please, stop." It wasn't quite begging, but it did strain his voice. He didn't want to know how it felt to have Dracula pleasure him with his mouth; he didn't want to come for Dracula; he didn't want to be here at all. But somewhere, in the deep recesses of his mind, he could feel himself slipping away; beginning to desire the touch, longing for it if only to not be alone.

If not for the cock in his mouth, Dracula might have smiled, having sensed the earliest beginnings of a surrender from the monster hunter. _Yes, Gabriel, you will belong to me in mind and body by the time I am finished with you. I will make you crave my touch, my presence. You will want me like you used to._ He opened his mouth and took Van Helsing all the way into his throat, pulling a deep, half-strangled moan from his prisoner.

It was there again – that strange sensation that somehow he knew what Dracula meant. 'But he didn't have time to focus on that while also fighting hard against the physical cravings of his body; his body that wanted to be touched so badly; his body that wanted the release of sexual tension; his body that betrayed his mind every time. So cold, so tired, so hungry, but his body moved to get more contact with Dracula's. He moaned and his hands reached to clasp Dracula's hips, though he wasn't sure if it was in a vain attempt to remove the vampire from his chest or to hold him in place. His hips gave a sharp upward thrust and he felt the release as he spilled himself into Dracula's waiting mouth. In his mind, he was almost begging, _Please stop - no more -_, but his body was crying out for more.

* * *

"No! Dammit!" Carl cursed as he watched the test subject writhe and flail, convulsing on the ground until, ultimately, he stopped moving and breathing.

"I thought it wouldn't harm the subject?" Jinette asked, not pleased.

"It isn't supposed to," Carl replied with a grumble. "I ran the calculations a dozen times, mixed the chemicals myself."

"Run them again," Jinette ordered, then turned and left the containment area.

Carl slammed a hand against the cage in sheer frustration. "It should have worked." He was so focused on re-running the calculations in his head, he didn't notice the pain in his hand.

An assistant came by with some notes and frowned at Carl. "What did you do to your hand?" He took Carl's hand in his own, examining the spreading purple bruise across the knuckles.

Carl tried to snatch his hand back, but the movement caused a blinding pain. "Nothing," he hissed.

The assistant was far from convinced. "I think you've broken your finger. We need to get this set so it will heal."

This time Carl did manage to snatch his hand free. "No. I don't have time, Mark."

"Of course you do. You can't do another live test until tomorrow anyway. Come on. We're getting this hand looked at." Mark dragged Carl to the infirmary, using less force than he figured he'd need.

******

"Ow, dammit!" Carl snapped when the medic pressed against a tender section of his hand.

The medic snarled and continued to examine the friar's hand. "I have to set the bone. It'll hurt." That was all the warning he gave before tugging Carl's fingers into place, ignoring the desperate howl of pain. "I'll splint it and you'll have to keep the splint on until I remove it or the bone will not heal properly."

"Fine. As long as I can still work."

"I think you should rest, Carl. Let your body heal."

Carl narrowed his eyes at the medic. "I have work to do."

He let the medic splint his finger, then he left. He needed to go over those calculations again. Van Helsing was depending on him.

* * *

Every night, the same basic routine – he would just get to sleep and Dracula would appear at the door. He would resist, but Dracula's control would win and he was taken to Dracula's chambers. On the floor, on a chair, on the bed – Van Helsing would be placed somewhere and Dracula would stroke him or suck him or both. It all disgusted him, he wanted nothing to do with it. The only problem was, his body betrayed him every time.

Dracula loved coming to the small, cold room to find that Van Helsing's cock was beginning to grow hard. The vampire would then parade him down the corridor, whispering into his head things that would be done to him.

_I'm going to scrape fingernails down your chest and suck on your cock, Gabriel. Would you like that?_

He would wince and mutter 'no', but his cock would twitch and his stomach, flip at the suggestions. The techniques themselves would be pleasurable with the right partner. Dracula was not what he considered the 'right' partner.

Then, when he was ready to come, Dracula would say, "Tell me, Gabriel. Tell me you don't love the sensation. Tell me you don't want to spill in my hand!"

He never could – his body desired the feelings, the release, the contact. Only his mouth ever said 'no'. Dracula could sense his body's true reaction and would begin his ministrations again – working Van Helsing to hardness, pushing him to orgasm.

The one thing he couldn't remember was if Dracula had ever climaxed during one of their encounters. He thought back over his imprisonment, but could find no instance where he could recall Dracula having an orgasm. Why? There had to be a reason.

Van Helsing's mind was forming a plan of its own.

When Dracula came for him, his cock grew hard, like always, he resisted the mental seduction and was revolted during Dracula's display of oral sex technique. Then, when Dracula began to stroke Van Helsing, he shifted his leg to brush against Dracula's cock.

He heard the vampire's deep, throaty moan and did it again.

"Gabriel, you must stop or I will hurt you," Dracula growled.

"I am s-sorry… M-master," he stammered. "My leg is cramped." Which was only a half-lie. He shifted his leg again, then felt Dracula's hips moving to rub his cock against Van Helsing's thigh.

The vampire growled, but kept his hand on Van Helsing's cock – stroking it while he rubbed his own against the coarse hair on his prisoner's leg. "Gabriel, I will punish you for your insolence."

"I- I'm sorry… I didn't…" Van Helsing found his mouth covered with Dracula's free hand. The vampire was strong and Van Helsing feared he might break his jaw.

With the increased thrusting against his leg, Dracula's grip on his mouth tightened. He was beginning to have difficulty breathing, more trouble moaning as he came in Dracula's hand.

Suddenly, he felt the sticky liquid against his leg and the hand lift from his mouth. Teeth shown white in Dracula's mouth as he snarled down at Van Helsing. "I warned you." The teeth clamped down on Van Helsing's shoulder and he howled in pain.

His brain's plan had been a bad idea.

Van Helsing was prepared to meet his fate when he realized something was odd about Dracula. He shifted his gaze to the vampire – he was asleep. Had the sun come up? Theoretically, as the light in this place never changed. He couldn't be sure.

However, he was not going to pass up the fortuitous opportunity to crawl, easily, out of the bed and slide into the heavy robe Dracula frequently wore. The sudden warmth and weight of the garment almost had him in tears of elation, but his mind was focused on one thing – escape.


	3. Chapter 3

Carl rolled over on his small cot, carefully nestling his broken finger against his chest. Sleeping peacefully, he moaned and cooed and reached down between his legs, rubbing gently until he came all over his bed and his nightshirt. When he woke in the morning, he was cradling his broken finger against his chest still and his cock in his other hand.

It took him a moment, but he remembered the very nice dream he had been having and wished he could go back to it. But there were tests to run, research to do. He uncurled his fingers from his cock, wiped off his hand and rolled out of bed.

He washed up, changed his clothes, tried to comb down his hair and wandered down to the mess hall to find something for breakfast.

Still not accustomed to having an uncooperative digit, he managed to crack his finger against nearly every surface he encountered. It was a struggle not to curse every time. He did manage to get through his morning meal and down to the lab without much incident, but beyond that, he was more accident prone than he would have ever thought possible. He spilled a beaker of water, stepped on a test tube, tripped over the table and almost ran into the door on his way to the storage room.

"Carl, why don't you let me help you? You do the calculations and take notes and just tell me what needs to be done." Mark, the friar who had helped him earlier, offered his assistance again with a soft smile.

Carl grumbled something about being useful or useless, but consented to the help. He needed it. He needed it to be able to help Van Helsing. "Thank you, Mark."

Mark smiled and waited for the first instruction. They worked late into the night, but Carl was still not satisfied with the results. He had hoped to have something more by now. He was ready to run additional live tests. Unfortunately, his chemicals were not as ready.

Mark put a hand on Carl's shoulder. "You should rest. You're pushing too hard."

"But I can't. I have to do this. He needs me."

"I know, Carl, but don't you think you'll do better with some rest? Isn't it better to do it right, than to rush and make mistakes?"

Carl scowled. "It has to be right or we'll still lose him. We need him," is what he said, but what he meant was _I need him_. If Van Helsing had been standing in front of him at that moment, he would have said it _to_ him.

Mark sighed. "Again, Carl, I know. But you're falling asleep while I'm working and you might be missing things you need in your notes."

Carl grumbled again and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine. You're right. I'll see you in the morning."

He lay in his bed, in the dark, trying to sleep for hours. His mind kept working and working, not letting him sleep. Try as he might, nothing would work - counting slowly backwards; thinking nothing; taking slow deep breaths - nothing. Finally, he got up and knelt at the window, looked out at the pale moonlight, then bent his head in prayer.

* * *

Van Helsing stopped to peer around the corner before proceeding. He hugged the wall and moved with quick, silent steps, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. Getting out of this castle was his main focus. Not getting caught went hand-in-hand with that.

His muscles ached, his stomach growled, his head swam if he moved too quickly, but he pushed it all aside and pressed on. He needed to get out and find Carl. Carl would be able to cure him, feed him, let him sleep without being disturbed. He needed that.

Even with the moonlight through the small windows, the corridors were mostly shadows. Shadows were helpful for hiding, but kept his movements slower than he would have preferred.

He rounded a corner, but jumped back abruptly to avoid being spotted by on-coming Dwergi. Weaponless, barefoot, tired and hungry, he wouldn't be able to take on even one in a fight, much less an entire horde. He backed into a corner, shielded as much of himself as possible and waited for the creatures to pass. They chattered on about something in their language that he couldn't understand with the exception of one name - Van Helsing.

Were they looking for him? Or constructing something to be used on him? Both options were unpleasant, given his surroundings and condition.

Confident the Dwergi were gone, he stepped out of the shadows and peered around the corner - checking. The next corridor was clear of obstacles and enemies, he rounded the corner and continued until he came to a crossing where he had seven new choices for which direction he could go.

He glanced toward the ceiling, but he couldn't tell if he was at the center of the castle or lost in some demented architect's idea of fun. It was at this point that Van Helsing realized he had no plan to get out of this castle. A plan would be good, but he hadn't had time to form one. He was certain that if he was caught, he wouldn't get another chance. He had to take the opportunity or he might never escape

He took a deep breath and bit into the flesh of his thumb, breaking the skin. A drop of blood welled on the surface, deep, dark red. Van Helsing pressed his thumb against the wall, drawing a thin line approximately two inches long.

Standing in the shadows, he studied the seven options before him. He walked straight out from the corridor he was in to the center of the intersection, then took the corridor immediately to the left of the one directly in front of him. He drew another two inch line on the wall of this corridor as he proceeded into it's darkness.

* * *

Carl heard the gentle footsteps enter the room and felt the warmth of a body kneeling behind him, then the pressure of a hand on his shoulder. For a brief moment, he thought it might be Van Helsing, but he knew that could not be - not yet. He finished his prayer and took a deep breath, but said nothing to his visitor.

"Carl," Mark said softly, "if you just need to talk... I'm here."

The friar still remained silent.

Mark smiled lightly. "I know you are strong enough to handle this. You can do this, Carl. You have to. He needs you to. He can't get out alone. His head may be hard as a rock, but even he knows he cannot do this alone."

Carl sighed. "I know, Mark. It doesn't make it any easier."

Mark could only shake his head. "No, it doesn't."

"Doesn't mean I won't do my damnedest, then kick his monster hunting butt when I get him patched up," Carl snarled.

A laugh escaped and Mark let it - he needed it, the room needed it. "I'm sure he'll take it well."

Carl snorted. "Hard-headed bastard. If he'd..." Carl stopped, shook his head. "He did what he thought he had to do to complete the assignment. He always does. The only difference this time is that he didn't come back."

"That's not your fault, Carl."

"Maybe it is. If I'd come up with something better; a way to handle Dracula without the werewolf; something – anything."

As cliché as it would sound, Mark said it anyway - "Don't beat yourself up, Carl."

"I know. I know I shouldn't, but, dammit, I should have figured it out sooner. I should have the antidote ready now. He shouldn't have to suffer waiting for me."

Mark slid his arms around Carl, holding him gently. "I know. And he knows you're doing the best you can. He'll live - just so you can save him. He wouldn't want to disappoint you," Mark commented with a small grin.

Carl rolled his eyes. "You are terrible at this, Mark."

"Yes, but I do try."

"You do." Carl sighed. "And I do appreciate it. More than you know."

"Then you don't want me to go?" Mark asked, maybe hoping, maybe wishing.

Carl shook his head. "No, I don't want you to go." He knew Mark was attracted to him. He also knew that Mark would do nothing as long as he thought Carl wanted someone else.

* * *

Anna tapped the metal rod she was carrying in one hand against the stones of the wall, listening for the hollow sound of a hidden opening. She knew Velkan had several around his old room, but not what he had kept in which ones. Keeping the lantern in her other hand held high enough to cast plenty of light, she walked the edge of the room tapping each stone in turn. The metal rod resounded a hollow 'thunk' against one stone, so she placed the lantern on the floor by her feet and tried to pry the stone free.

It came loose, but Anna was pulling too hard and ended up on her backside, the stone resting on her midsection. With a grunt of effort, she rolled the stone to the floor and knelt in front of the opening. Inside she found several drawings and a note addressed to her:

> _Dearest Sister,  
> You will not find what you seek in here. Nor will you find it anywhere in my chambers. I have hidden my secrets where you cannot find them. I do not wish you to know of such things. I have told you what I am able, the rest should follow me to my grave._

"Dammit!" Anna slapped a hand against the wall. "Velkan. I know you have information that can help me kill Dracula. If you've hidden it from me, how can I finish our mission?"

She replaced the drawings, the note and the stone. Determined not to give up, she continued tapping along the wall for other hollow areas where Velkan might have hidden things - helpful or otherwise.

"I wish Carl were here - he's good at finding things."

* * *

Darkness surrounded him, but he focused his eyes to see through it, to find the light at the end of the corridor. There was none. No light but the faint glows from the way he came. That made no sense. He couldn't see the end, but he couldn't see the opening if he looked back either.

Was this a long corridor or was there a deep surprise in the next several yards? He peered hard down the corridor and slowed his steps, sliding his feet along the floor, feeling for an edge. Raising one arm in front of him and the other to his side, he felt for a wall ahead of him as he slid the other hand along the side wall.

The darkness only got darker as he progressed. There were no edges under his feet, but there also seemed to be no corridors leading off this one - not to the right. He couldn't reach the left wall while following the right and keeping a hand out in front, so he would have to get to the end of the corridor, then turn around and try the other direction.

His outstretched hand hit a solid surface and he stopped walking. He felt around the wall for openings, but found nothing. Utterly exhausted, he leaned against the back wall and slid to sit on the floor. He tugged the long, warm robe around his naked body and curled himself into the corner. It was still cold, but much less so than in his cell. The shivers were less violent, but still present.

He managed to fall asleep and even to dream in his cold, dark corner of the castle.

In this dream, Carl came to him, woke him gently and helped him walk to a warm bed covered in layers of blankets. He was cleaned and bandaged and put to bed, soon joined by the wiry friar, who curled arms around him gently and held him until he fell asleep.

In this dream, when he woke, he was nestled against the warmth of Carl's chest and felt safe wrapped in his arms. There are no expectations, no demands, just time to rest. It's perfect. Too perfect...

A deep painful howl echoed in the corridor when the beast took over his body again, jarring him awake, slamming him against the wall. The force of the strike took his breath for a moment. The beast recovered quickly and stared through the darkness toward the dim light at the mouth of the corridor. Something was there.


	4. Chapter 4

The liquid beneath the microscope didn't seem different from blood. It was red, had cells, had a liquid around the larger cells. He couldn't be sure that he would figure out anything from the sample. Or if the sample was even still viable.

Usually he was quite good at research and discovering the origins of a compound as well as it's basic components. This one had him stumped. Perhaps there was a mystical component that he couldn't see now with his current equipment. Either because the equipment wasn't sophisticated enough or the mystical aspect had faded.

But Carl was determined. He had a great deal invested in this research. Van Helsing was a valuable member of the Knights of the Holy Order but was also a very close friend. Carl wouldn't abandon him.

He sipped his tea, prepared a new slide, then placed it on the scope. Still, nothing jumped out at him. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Anna finished collecting items for the hunt. Most of the others thought she was mad for continuing her work protecting the village after all that had happened. Her opinion was that her protection was needed more than ever without Van Helsing available to help.

There was a new threat in the woods. The vampires had seemingly gone on hiatus, but the Bukovac had not. She had heard of the creatures in stories and folklore, but had ever encountered one until the week before when she had gone to the clearing by the river. No one had ever mentioned the Bukovac coming that close to the village. She theorized that the vampire attacks had kept them away.

Now that the vampires were gone - for the time being - new threats were starting to make themselves threatening. Some trickster sprites had taunted the village last month, and this month, the Bukovac. Anna had spread word for the villagers to be careful in the forest now. To watch for creatures like the Bukovac. Most had heeded her warnings, but a few rabble-rousers had tried to hunt and capture some of their new foes. Of those few, only two had a escaped being killed and those two had nothing but scars to show for their efforts.

After that, Anna had gathered her brother's hunting party and set off to find the Bukovac. The hunts were short and, so far, fruitless but she would do what was necessary to protect her people.

* * *

Van Helsing waited against the wall of the corridor. Unsure when the other being would approach, he pressed his back close to the stone wall and waited. He controlled his breathing, but not the grumbling of his famished stomach.

As he waited, he felt the fall of night settle to his bones. The rising of the full moon prickled the hairs on the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and wished – prayed - for overcast skies.

Wish not granted. Prayers not answered. The wolf tore from his skin and roared from deep within his chest again. A moment later, he heard an answering roar curling down the corridor to his left.

He scented the air, then followed the scent down the dark stone hallway. To the right was an opening; dim light spread a few inches into the corridor. He stalked toward the light and poked his nose around the corner. The scent was stronger here. It drew him around the corner and into the alcove that turned out to be more of a lighted cave than just an alcove.

Deeper into the cave, he spotted the source of the answering roar. A sleek, tawny brown-coated werewolf, locked behind a cage door. A snarling growl rolled from his chest - a sound of rage. He curled one claw around the bars of the cage and pulled hard on the door.

It rattled, but wouldn't come free. He grasped the cage door with both front paws, claws curled around the bars, and yanked again. The door pulled clean off the hinges. He threw the door across the cave, then turned back to the werewolf he'd just freed.

The other wolf sniffed the air between them before stepping forward slowly. Van Helsing approached cautiously.

When the tawny wolf leapt at him, he wasn't ready and they both slid across the floor and slammed into the wall. He scrambled to his feet, planted himself firmly in place and stared the other down with a snarl.

They paced around one another. Eyes focused, heads down to protect their throats. Neither gave ground. Neither backed down from their position. Two alphas making a stand against one another.

Two circles later, they were on each other. Swiping claws and snapping teeth until the aggression turned into a primal need to mate. In a flurry of fangs and fur, he mounted the recently released female werewolf.

******

When Van Helsing woke, he found himself sprawled in a corner. He raised his head and peered through the missing door of the cage. A woman lay curled just inside the cage with him. He didn't recognize her. He was certain she was another of Dracula's pets.

He wanted to say something to her. Assure her that everything would be fine. The problem was, he didn't know that. And he couldn't give her assurance of something he couldn't be sure of himself.

Van Helsing knew something had happened, but his fuzzy memory wouldn't let him see it clearly. When he tried to speak to the naked woman, supine on the floor, his voice was scratchy and hoarse. He thought he asked her if she was okay in gravelly Italian, but he wasn't sure it was clear. The woman didn't react. He swallowed to wet his throat. Then he tried Italian a second time, then German, Latin, the few scrapes of the Baltic languages he knew and his broken Romanian. Still nothing.

He gathered as much strength as he could and pulled himself across the cold stone floor. Fingers passed gently against the vein in her throat, seeking her pulse. It was faint, but there. That was a good sign.

The woman was attractive, but plain. She had tan skin and light brown hair. Her eyes were closed so he couldn't see what color they were. He watched her breathing - steady and even. His guts twisted with the realization of what had most-likely happened the night before and he thought he might be sick. He was no stranger to spontaneous sex, just to spontaneous sex as an animal.

He sat with his back against the wall, watched the woman until she stirred and woke. She blinked bleary eyes at him. "Who are you?" she asked in fluid German.

Rusty with German, he gave her a choppy introduction. Having to learn so many languages so quickly hadn't given him time to practice them. And he'd spent the few days before his trip to Romania speaking the languages he needed for that mission.

She laughed at him and his attempt at her language. With a slight modification to her phrasing, she asked him his name and if he knew where they were. It took time, but they muddled through a conversation and he attempted to apologize for his behavior of the night before with a deep blush. She didn't seem upset or offended, which he greatly appreciated.

What he didn't appreciate was the sudden splash of icy water on his skin. He spluttered and spit, shook his head and pushed to his feet. Angry, face burning with fury, he stalked toward the source of the water.

"Stop, Gabriel," Dracula commanded.

Van Helsing stopped mid-stride without benefit of conscious thought. He hated that. He hated the control Dracula had over him. But since he'd had some sleep, he could feel some of that control having to push a little harder.

It wasn't much, but it was something.

"Oh, Gabriel. I am so pleased that you found my other pet." Dracula glanced toward the woman on the floor. "And I can see you are quite well acquainted," he added with a wicked grin.

Van Helsing growled low in his chest. Had it all been a a set-up or just bad timing for his escape attempt? Neither was pleasant, but the latter was the choice that made him feel less helpless.

"Come with me, Gabriel," Dracula said as he began to leave the cave.

"What about her?" Van Helsing asked, his feet following the instruction all on their own.

Dracula sighed. "She'll be fine. There is no need to worry about her." He stopped abruptly, turned to face Van Helsing and grabbed him under the chin. "You, on the other hand, have earned yourself a set of shackles."

Van Helsing felt spittle, hot and acidic, splutter against his cheek. He refused to flinch or otherwise show weakness in front of his captor.

"Chain him to the wall," Dracula ordered with a flippant wave of his hand as he turned to his chambers.

It wasn't until the treacherous little Dwergi showed up and locked the chains to his neck, wrists and ankles that he realized the safety and comfort of his cold, stone cell was no longer an option. He was chained to the wall, naked, on display outside Dracula's chambers. On display for anyone passing by to see.

The sharp stones pressed into his back and legs. The frosty castle air raised goosebumps on his skin. The near dead silence was more disconcerting than any of the other sounds he'd heard in the castle. He felt more alone here, hanging from the wall, than he had the first night in the cell with it's cold, stone floor.

* * *

_The Vatican – 1870_

Van Helsing knelt on the cold stone floor, head bowed to his chest. He was alone in the room. Waiting. The empty room sounded hollow, barren. His breath echoed off the stone walls.

From inside the room, he couldn't hear anything in the corridor. The only thing he could do was wait.

The waiting was worse, he thought, than any punishment they could inflict. And there would be punishment. After what he'd done, if he wasn't executed, he would think himself lucky.

He was right. Punishment was coming. And it wasn't going to be pleasant. The Order was angry and frustrated. What he'd done this time was forgivable, but he would have to endure whatever they laid on him for it.

The Cardinal, an unattractive heavyset man, floated into the room, red robes swishing against the concrete floor. He stopped in front of Van Helsing and motioned for the men who had followed him in to lift Van Helsing from the floor.

Van Helsing was dragged to a wooden stocks and locked into the device. Stubbornly, he tried to get free. The Cardinal frowned at him sternly.

"Gabriel," the Cardinal hissed, "you have tried the patience of The Order yet again. Did you not learn from the last time?"

Van Helsing said nothing. Yet.

"What you have done has shamed you and the church and The Order and the House of Valerious." The portly man turned on Van Helsing. "Have you anything to say for yourself?"

"Love cannot bring shame," he stated in reply.

Almost before the last word left his lips a hand cracked sharply against his face. It stung and he turned his face away. He tasted blood on his tongue and realized the Cardinal had split his lip.

"Adultery, Gabriel, is a sin," the Cardinal informed him in a tone one might use with a particularly stubborn child.

"So is abuse," he muttered under his breath, but kept his eyes on the Cardinal. He kept his breathing even and his heart rate as steady as possible. Both became increasingly difficult as the Cardinal paced around him.

"Gabriel," the Cardinal pronounced, "your punishment has been decided by the Council of The Order." He paced slowly around Van Helsing. "You will be stripped of your power and position."

Van Helsing was certain he could live with that. As long as he had assurances that the Lady Valerious and her baby would be all right. He wanted his family to be cared for and safe.

"...you will undergo the transformation at sundown," the Cardinal droned on, trying to make his voice boom in the cold, stone room.

_Transformation?_ Van Helsing should have paid closer attention. "What happens to them?" he asked.

"They will be taken care of. They no longer concern you, Gabriel."

He wanted to snarl that they would always concern him. That his family - even an illegitimate one - was important to him.

******

The cold stone steps were slick as he crawled. Wet and rigid beneath his weary limbs. The rain pelted his skin. He felt himself sliding down the stairs, back to the square.

The rain water slid off his face, replaced by more from the heavens as the storm continued.

Later he'd be asked how he had arrived at the Vatican and he would have to answer that he didn't know. He couldn't remember coming to Rome or why. The last thing he remembered was the wet stairs against his face.

* * *

_The Vatican – 1888_

The Knights of the Holy Order, as he had learned the group that had found him was called, had cleaned him up, fed him and let him sleep for as long as he needed. Once he was rested, they started him on a training regimen unlike any he had been on before - or since.

He was up before the sun, training, then awake late into the night with studies of creatures he had never heard of and that children only hear of in fairytales.

Climbing trees, hanging from rooftops, firing crossbows, running through woods and brush - none of these were activities he had thought he would engage in at any point... of the last three months. All of his training included any or all of these at some point. He had more bruises, scrapes, abrasions and broken bones than he could count.

One night, laying in the infirmary, he heard pieces of a conversation:

"Is this entirely necessary?"

"For him to be prepared, yes."

"So you have to nearly kill him to prepare him for the work he needs to do?"

"... learn discipline and control. We need him."

He passed out at that point. When he came to later, the voices were gone. He couldn't be sure, but he thought they had been talking about him. This Order had been torturing and punishing him for weeks to strengthen their own agenda.

Until then, he had not had any problems towing the line. No longer. He would do what he needed to learn the skills, but he would do no more. He was not their lab rat or guinea pig to be used and experimented on for their own purposes.

* * *

_Castle Dracula – 1890_

Dracula rose from his slumber rested and as rejuvenated as an undead man could be sleeping to the sounds of his captive hissing and groaning in complaint about his uncomfortable position. He exited his chambers to find that Van Helsing was hanging from the wall by manacles and chains. Such an exquisite display of captive flesh to wake up to. Dracula was pleased by this early encounter.

"My, my, Gabriel, one might think you hadn't slept at all," he cooed as though in sympathy for his lack of rest. He was certain the man hadn't managed sleep in this position. That was the idea, after all.

Van Helsing gave no verbal response. Nothing more than a tired grunt of frustration. That just would not do at all.

Dracula backhanded him across the jaw. "You are to speak to me when spoken to, my pet," he growled.

Van Helsing's head cracked against the wall with a 'thock', then returned to it's hanging position in the neck shackles. "No, I didn't," he confirmed in a harsh whispered croak.

A Dwergi servant approached with a cup of water. Dracula rolled his eyes at the creature, but took the cup in his pale, bony hand. "Oh, if I must." He lifted the cup for Van Helsing to drink. Threw the cup at the Dwergi once he was finished. "Get out," he snarled at the creature and it scurried off in a hurry.

"Thank you," Van Helsing managed, his throat still dry from lack of liquid, but the sentiment was as much there as it would be for anyone else who'd brought him much-needed water.

"So you _are_ schooled in etiquette, my pet. How precious." Dracula's face turned from mock-smile to deep snarl. "We'll get rid of that soon enough." After an exaggerated sigh, Dracula began to unlock the shackles. "I have another mission for you. I need you to go to Rome. Find some things. That blubbering buffoon at the Valerious castle is more than useless and I need you to see what those Knights might have on this."

Van Helsing was barely able to stand, but managed to keep his feet long enough to hear the instructions. "Why would you send me to Rome?" he asked.

"For the irony," Dracula responded. "Now go, my pet. We don't have much time."

The control was growing stronger. Van Helsing couldn't resist following the orders he'd been given. No matter how much he tried, nothing could help him break free. His form shifted as the full moon rose and he bounded for the portal that had been opened for him.

* * *

He was in the lab again. He was always in the lab. Every day since he'd returned from Dracula's castle, he had spent focused on one thing – finding a cure for Van Helsing. He would find it. If it took him years, he would find it. Failure was not possible. The world, The Order, _he_ needed Van Helsing back.

Dracula's hold was growing stronger. Carl could feel it with each passing week. But he wouldn't let that deter his progress.

He would do this.

He _had_ to do this.

As night fell he felt his mind clouding over, fatigued from the unending research. He needed fresh air. A walk in the courtyard would help him clear his head.

Darkness lingered heavily between the trees. Carl found it comforting. He could let his mind wander without interruption. He could think in the darkness. Even if the darkness of the small woods frightened him a little. He knew it shouldn't, but when one's best friend has been turned into a monster, even irrational fears had some grounding.

He sat on a large rock, glanced to the sky and began to pray. When he was at a loss for direction, he turned to God for help. Sometimes it was more help than others, but he refused to give up on the practice. If nothing else, it gave him hope. Surely the Heavenly Father would not give up on one of his own.

The heavy movement in the trees gave him a fright. He stopped mid-prayer. Without thinking, he sequestered himself behind the rock. He hoped his teeth weren't chattering too loudly.

He closed his eyes and tried to take slow, deep breaths. Whatever was out there, he didn't want to face it. And certainly not alone.

_Oh, Gabriel, if only you were here._

A loud snort carried across the small clearing. It was familiar sound. Familiar and frightening. He'd heard it before. At Castle Valerious and at Castle Frankenstein and at Dracula's icy palace. A werewolf.

How had a werewolf penetrated the defenses of The Order's courtyard? Had the man they'd captured for study managed to escape?

Carl was certain the man hadn't. His instincts were sure. His instincts were telling him he knew this werewolf.

Slowly, he peered around the edge of the rock. Waiting for the creature to appear in the clearing was nerve-wracking. He felt his knees shaking. This is why Van Helsing was the hero. Nothing scared him.

When he saw the werewolf emerge from the darkness of the trees, he gasped. Shrinking back into the shadows, he watched the beast stop and scent the air.

_What are you doing, Carl? You know it can smell your scent. It knows you're here. You can't hide._ Carl's own internal musings weren't helping to quell his fears any.

The beast seemed to be reading Carl's thoughts as it stepped further into the pale light of the clearing. It stepped into the brighter patch of light at one side of the clearing and turned it's large canine head. Moonlight glinted off the beast's eye. Carl instantly recognized the sleek black coat and alert ears. As well as the determined set of the eye.

He was mentally yanked back to that rainy, cold night, several weeks ago, in Dracula's castle. He'd made it through the Dwergi and pygmy bats and Dracula's brides, only to be faced with the task of injecting Van Helsing with the serum that would cure him. If only he hadn't tripped over the wires and equipment lining the floor of the lab. If only he'd been faster. If only he'd done everything right. Van Helsing wouldn't be fighting for his mind and Carl wouldn't be frantically searching for a cure to save him.

* * *

Anna had searched everywhere in Velkan's chambers and the surrounding rooms. The one loose stone with the note from her brother had been the only clue. She would have to look elsewhere.

The tower had been poured over pretty thoroughly when Carl had been doing his research. She would look there later. There was a possibility Velkan had hidden something in her room, but that seemed unlikely.

Her current destination: the library. Rather than search the usual locations, she was checking walls and the sides of bookshelves. So far, her search had yielded little. Nothing useful, actually. When she considered the possibility that what she was looking for was tucked into one of the thousands of books, her ire rose. She could only hope Velkan wasn't nearly that cruel – even to his sister.

Sergei came into the library carrying an armload of books. "Oh, pardon me, mistress."

"What are you doing with those books?" she growled.

"Returning them to the library, mistress," he stammered in response as he backed into the wall.

Anna frowned. Her reaction had been more harsh than necessary. "Why did you have them out of the library? You know the books are to remain here," she said, voice softer this time.

The little man lowered his head. "I was doing research, mistress. And I had left my notes in my chambers. It was more efficient to take the books there, then return them once I was finished."

Far too tired to bother with him more, Anna shook her head and left the library with a disdainful snort. She needed information.

* * *

"My God. Van Helsing?" Carl gasped, squinting into the clearing. He was certain the next time he saw Gabriel, the man would be trying to kill him. This, he saw as an opportunity. He would get a sample of the werewolf's blood to test against the sample from Gabriel he had back in the lab.

The beast sniffed and snorted again. It made no move to attack. Carl took this as a good sign as well. Still, he was cautious moving from behind the rock into the clearing proper. And he was wishing he had brought a weapon.

Carl watched the werewolf's ears twitch, gathering more information. He was certain it was Gabriel. He could feel it. "Van Helsing," he began, "do you trust me?"

The werewolf tilted it's large black head to one side. It cautiously watched him approach, but gave no indication it might attack.

Hopeful still, Carl held the syringe he needed to use in front of him for the wolf to see. "I need to take a sample. Will you let me do that?" He was close enough to reach out and touch the sleek black fur if he'd wanted. Nervous was one word to describe his current state of mind. Scared wouldn't be far off either. He was within chomping distance of a werewolf for crying out loud.

With what Carl assumed was a hearty sigh, the wolf lowered his front end to the ground as though preparing for sleep. Carl counted to fifteen in his head before taking those last few steps.

"You do know who I am. That's a relief." He felt that if he didn't stop talking, he was less likely to be eaten. He continued in the same soft, gentle cadence. He prattled on about weapons he'd been developing, weapons he'd been thinking about developing, weapons he'd been improving and the research he'd been doing. The weapons discussion was for Gabriel; the research, for his own reassurance.

He managed to stick the werewolf and keep himself calm at the same time. Gabriel didn't seem bothered by the syringes as Carl drew several samples. He wasn't going to risk not having an ample supply. And knew he'd not have another chance.

The wolf's fur was softer than he had expected it to be. Then again, he had never expected to be this close to a werewolf either. Carl spent several minutes brushing his fingers through the dark shiny fur of the werewolf's pelt. He didn't think Gabriel would mind and it seemed to help soothe the beast.

"Gabriel..." Carl said softly, bowing his head close to the wolf's neck. He missed his friend terribly. Needed him to come back to him.

The moonlight faded. The wolf melted into a man, kneeling on the grass

* * *

"Yes, my pet. Convince your little monk friend that you no longer need his help. That there is nothing he can do for you," Dracula hissed to the shimmering image of his werewolf pet in the clearing with the meddlesome friar.

He wasn't pleased that his pet had taken a side trip during his assignment, but if Van Helsing could convince the friar to focus his attention elsewhere, Dracula could get his pet's attention back where it belonged.

Dracula needed his pet to remain under his control. Van Helsing's will was much stronger than that of any of his previous pets. Others had been strong, but none had resisted him quite as stridently.

They had a history that Van Helsing didn't remember. But the connection was still present. He could feel it. They'd shared a lot at a point in history that had not been pleasant for either of them.

They had supported one another during difficult times. Only parting company when his partner left for the Carpathians. He wanted his partner back.

* * *

Van Helsing took a deep, solid breath and pressed a fist into the ground for balance. It took several seconds for his eyes to focus. When they did, he shrank away from Carl. Curling his arms around himself. Desperate for his friend not to see him this way.

"Oh, Gabriel," Carl said as he knelt beside him, arms around his shoulders in a warm, yet gentle embrace.

"Please, Carl," Van Helsing panted, "Don't... don't see me like this." Naked and broken and not in control of his own mind longer than seconds at a time.

Carl sat back on his heels. "How should I see you?" he asked with a growl.

Van Helsing said nothing for a long time. He needed the rest afforded to him by the momentary cloud cover. Though it wouldn't last long, he took advantage of every second he had.

His nose caught the scent of something. Salty. Meat-like. He lifted his head to look. Carl had food. Instantly his mouth began to water. Dracula rarely let him eat unless he was in wolf-form and even then, he usually had to kill his own prey. Something he refused to do unless he was desperate.

"I'll share," Carl informed him and held out the strip of jerky.

Van Helsing tentatively reached for the meat, still uncertain this wasn't a hallucination. His fingers closed around real food and, when he put it to his lips, it tasted like real food. When he closed his teeth around it, it felt real and tasted real in his mouth. He closed his eyes and sighed contentedly at the first real food he'd had in weeks.

He looked up and shook his head slowly. "Carl, I'm so sorry," he breathed between chews.

"Shut up and drink this, quickly." Carl handed him a flask of water that cooled Van Helsing's throat wonderfully.

"In the castle..." Van Helsing muttered through the food, "journal... pre-Boris... could help..." It was difficult to breathe and chew and speak all at the same time.

Carl nodded, then looked toward the sky. "The clouds are moving," Carl told him as he looked back to Van Helsing. "Keep fighting, Gabriel. I'll find the answers."

Van Helsing chewed on the jerky, drank the water and just breathed for the last few moments he had before the clouds began to move. "Go, Carl. Now." He shook his head again. "I don't know how well I can control it now. Please..."

Carl held up a hand to stall further pleading from the hero before him. "Promise me, you won't give up."

A nod. "I promise, Carl. Now, please, go."

He felt it coming only moments before it happened. The terrible itching beneath his skin. The crawling, bubbling of the werewolf hide, pushing to break free. He let out a roar and rose to his feet, fingers tearing at the human skin, ripping it from his body, exposing the wolf fur to the shining moonlight.

Once the wolf had taken over his body again, he pulled back enough control to see that Carl had made his escape, before turning back into the woods to complete the assignment he'd been sent to fulfill.


	5. Chapter 5

_The Vatican – 1888_

Carl puttered around the lab, piecing things together and testing chemical combinations. A small reaction generated a large smoke screen in the center of the lab that had only begun to clear by the time the Cardinal brought the latest of the operatives down for an introduction.

Three men waved hands in front of their faces to clear the smoke away. Carl continued tinkering. The Cardinal approached and introduced the two new men. Carl paid them little attention until the taller one began showing appreciation for his weaponry.

Most of the operatives who had been through had only been interested in the weapons when they were dispatched on a mission. Most of those operatives had been of little interest to him on a personal level. This one seemed to be different.

"What's this do?" he asked in a voice that definitely had Carl's attention. To the point he wished he had been paying attention when the Cardinal had performed the introductions.

Carl swallowed to wet his suddenly dry throat. "That," he almost stammered, "is a device for restraining unruly captures." Carl shuffled around the table and lifted the contraption for the new operative to inspect more closely. "It's like a stocks, but smaller. And designed for larger creatures, rather than men."

The operative grunted, but Carl knew it was a sound of appreciation. He almost smiled, but the Cardinal called Carl's new, interesting, potential friend away.

"Van Helsing!" the Cardinal snapped. "We have much to do today. Please." He directed Van Helsing toward the other end of the lab.

Carl could clearly see the man - Van Helsing - was loathe to continue the tour. The weapons were far more interesting to him.

"Come back later and I'll show you more," he whispered as he took the monster restraint back from Van Helsing.

Van Helsing lifted a corner of his mouth and gave Carl a knowing wink as he returned to stalk behind the Cardinal. This was the best thing to happen in The Order since one of the other scientists put experimental itching powder in the Cardinal's shoes.

******

Van Helsing returned to the lab later that evening. The excitable friar was scurrying around with chemicals and nearly dropped the entire collection when he spotted his guest.

"Oh, hello," he spluttered.

Van Helsing helped the friar settle the vials of chemicals on the table. "I am sorry, I have forgotten your name." He felt bad about that, but the items on the table had caught his attention and everything else slipped away.

The friar nodded. "My name is Carl. And if I recall, you are Van Helsing."

"I am. It's a pleasure to meet you, Carl." He waved at the table. "Talk to me about these," he said.

Carl jumped to life so quickly Van Helsing was certain the man would flutter away. For the next four hours, they looked at, discussed and demonstrated weapons, chemical compounds and any of the other gadgets Carl had lying about. At the end Van Helsing was both excited and exhausted.

He enjoyed the weapons discussion with Carl. He preferred that to the quick-fire routine from the trainers. He liked to know how the weapons functioned and what they were meant to do. Being taught only how to use the weapon didn't help him nearly as much.

"Thank you, Carl, for the lessons." He dropped his voice to a whisper, "Would it be all right for us to continue these sessions?"

Carl smiled brilliantly, but kept his voice quiet as well, "Of course, Van Helsing. Come visit whenever you'd like. Except on Wednesdays. I have a prior engagement then."

Van Helsing nodded and took his leave.

******

A year later Carl was still impressed with Van Helsing's never-flagging interest in weaponry. Even if the man found teasing him to be a fabulous pastime. He had no problems with Van Helsing's sense of humor, but his desire to make Carl leap to reach things was frustrating. Last week he had put Carl's goggles on top of a high shelf. It had taken him half the day to work out how to get them down. The practice frustrated him, but didn't stop him from worrying about Van Helsing when he was on a mission.

Each time his weapon enthusiastic friend was sent out to fight or capture some creature or other, Carl would spend many of the nights praying for his safe return. He would pray for the others as well, but not as fervently as for Van Helsing.

* * *

_The Vatican - 1890_

He was still praying. Van Helsing was out there in need of rescue. That was backwards. Van Helsing was supposed to do the rescuing.

Carl let his tests percolate and rest and froth and bubble as they needed. The answer had to be in the blood. He had Mark doing microscopic comparisons of the samples while he was working on other aspects.

The lack of progress on this was irritating him more than his other projects. He was accustomed to having more time to figure out these things. The window of opportunity for getting Van Helsing back was beginning to close.

Mark returned from his investigation looking weary, but not disappointed. "We may have progress," he said quietly.

"Really?" Carl asked, keeping his excitement under control. He couldn't afford to get his hopes up over blood samples.

"Yes," Mark nodded. "There's an isotope in the werewolf sample that isn't present in the non-werewolf sample."

"Good," Carl said. "We might be able to use that." He scurried around his lab table working around his still-bubbling tests. "Can you do something for me? Can you search the library for any references to cures for werewolves?"

Mark nodded again, but didn't leave yet. "I thought those were all old folk tales?"

"Probably are. But there is a hint of truth in most folklore. Find what you can?"

"Of course." Mark departed for the library.

* * *

_The Vatican – 1889_

Van Helsing ducked the flying tree trunk, caught his foot on a protruding root, fell and rolled down the embankment. He reached for a loose root as he slid by it, but missed on account of more mud on his hands than grip. Several feet later he came to rest against a jagged boulder. He was winded and bruised and quite possibly in possession of a broken back.

Something to slow his descent would have been more than helpful. For the moment he was contemplating how to get off the ground and back to the fight. He had an assignment to complete. That wouldn't happen while he was folded around a rock.

He rolled slowly to his knees then his feet. Tested each limb and joint before starting to move. The climb back up the embankment would be long and slow. Especially with all his current injuries. There was nothing nearby to use for a ladder or rope, so he was left with old-fashioned climbing.

Hand over hand, scaling a few feet at a time, he started up the embankment. Half-way up, he recovered his hat. Two-thirds of the way, one of the damned flying things he had been hunting swooped down and plucked him off the side of the hill. That hadn't been the plan. Granted, neither had falling down the hill.

Van Helsing reached for the knife at his waist, then watched it flip end-over-end into the ravine below. His day wasn't getting any better. This was getting ridiculous, actually. He drew his pistol and fired two rounds into the creature. It didn't drop him, but it lost altitude. They were skirting the tops of the trees and now he was praying the creature wouldn't drop him. He wasn't sure he'd survive a crash through a collection of branches.

As the winged creature lost blood from its wounds, it slowly lost altitude. But not fast enough for Van Helsing's idea. He fired another round into the thing, heard it yelp, then felt it let go of his arm. It took him thirty seconds to realize he was falling rapidly. Though the billowing of his leather coat slowed his descent a bit, the ground was coming at him fast and he needed to remedy that.

He aimed for a nearby tree to use the branches as brakes, but all that managed was more bruises and contusions when the branches broke off to fall with him. Relenting to his fate he shoved the branches away and aimed to tuck and roll when he hit the ground.

******

"My God, Van Helsing, what happened?" Carl shrieked when he saw the man drag the creature he'd been sent after into he lab.

Van Helsing grunted and hoisted the creature onto a table. "Fell," he commented.

"On what?"

"Everything." He closed his eyes through a heavy pinch of pain and pressed a hand to the stone wall for support.

Carl thrust a shoulder under the man's arm to help. "Where, exactly, did you fall, Van Helsing?" he asked, voice starting to strain as he tried not to buckle under the heavier man's weight.

"Down a hill," Van Helsing pushed out ahead of a cough. "Then through a tree."

Carl caught him as best he could when the man finally lost consciousness.

******

In the infirmary, Carl sat by Van Helsing's bed. He was there when the man finally woke. He did not let him know that he'd been there all four nights, praying over him.

"You survived," Carl stated.

Van Helsing grunted.

"You almost didn't."

"I'm fine," Van Helsing rumbled. He moved to sit up, tossed his legs over the side of the bed.

Carl braced a hand on the man's shoulder. "You need to rest."

"I need to get out of this infirmary."

Arguing was pointless, so Carl helped Van Helsing to his own room and got him settled in a chair rather than the bed. He gathered some reading materials, collected a pitcher of water and a glass. Made sure everything was in easy reach.

"Gabriel," Carl whispered, using the man's given name for the first time since they'd met, "why do you do these things to yourself?"

The name caught Van Helsing off guard, but he said nothing in that regard. As for Carl's question: "Because I don't want them to own me."

"I'd wager they assume they already do."

"Then they'd best not hedge their bets," Van Helsing grumbled.

Carl sighed. "For my sake, please try to stay alive. The others are so dreadfully boring."

Van Helsing nodded. "If you find me away to fall off cliffs without dying, it's a deal."

* * *

_The Vatican – 1890_

Carl had developed the grapple-gun shortly after that conversation. That had been a far simpler problem to solve than his current one. Van Helsing's werewolf infection or curse was far more complex and would require keeping Van Helsing's condition a secret for as long as possible.

He had shifted from running tests on the blood to sifting through the research Mark had brought him. There was far more of that than he'd expected. Mark had been very thorough.

While he was pouring through pages of folklore he was brought a communication. From Anna Valerious, 'Why on Earth would she cable me?' He muttered as he unfolded the paper.

She had cabled to inform him of some news she had uncovered within the walls of the castle and to ask if he could please come immediately. Had this been a mission, there would be no doubt he'd be granted permission to leave. But with Van Helsing missing, and much other work to be done, he was quite sure the Cardinal would deny his request. However it wouldn't hurt to ask right?

Not at all right. The Cardinal had refused outright without bothering to hear the reasoning for the request. Carl had expected as much. 'Other operatives could be sent on such errands if they were worth the time,' was his own paraphrasing of what he'd been told.

He would find a way. He could take leave or find some other reason to visit Anna. Something with his research would work nicely. And he didn't have much time to formulate that plan.

It had taken some smooth talking, but he had gotten clearance for his trip across the Adriatic. He had an assistant with him, but the journey felt far too sombre.

Anna's find was intriguing, if cryptic. It gave him a new puzzle to work on alongside the current werewolf problem. He couldn't be entirely sure, but the clues pointed toward the Valerious family tree. Carl was almost positive it indicated some paternal discrepancy, but Anna argued that she had another sibling in the world somewhere.

Carl didn't argue. There was no point. He'd be able to do his research easier if he didn't have her looming over him and trying to convince him she was right. From the number of books in the library and the tower, he knew this would take him a while.

* * *

"Gabriel!" he heard Dracula bellow from somewhere in the castle when he returned.

Van Helsing was too tired to make it much farther than the front entry hall. He stumbled halfway to the first arch before he collapsed. The cold stone of the floor was oddly inviting after his trek back from Rome. It wasn't until he felt edges of pebbles poking his skin that he realized he'd shed the werewolf again.

"Get up, Gabriel," Dracula growled. "You are a very trying pet."

He said nothing. He was lucky to have heard the words being spoken to him. He did, however, very much feel the heavy boot shoved into his side. All that managed was to make him curl into a ball on the cold cold ground.

Dracula was on him in a flash. One hand gripped his hair and wrenched his head back so he could get Van Helsing's face even with his own. "Gabriel, I am disappointed in you, my pet. You were supposed to kill them, not make friends."

''I will not kill for you," Van Helsing growled through his teeth.

Dracula laughed. "Oh but you _will_ my pet. You will."

He ordered his lackeys to drag Van Helsing back in his cell.

As much as he hated the cell, Van Helsing was glad of the time to rest. 'Preferably not chained to a wall. He was given water and a few crusts of bread. It wasn't filling. It wasn't enough. In fact, it seemed to make his hunger worse. Little food or water for days was wearing heavily on his health and strength.

He had, as the werewolf, fed on some of the forest and mountain wildlife, but even that didn't seem enough. He could not sate his hunger. Dracula's implication was that he would need more than small animal flesh. That the hunger was a bloodlust rather than a need for food. Van Helsing disagreed. He would resist for as long as possible.

Killing humans was not an option. Monsters were a different story. Even those he only killed when it was necessary. Most he managed to bring to The Order for salvation of their mortal souls. Only the truly resistant met more unfortunate circumstances. And those who chose to irritate him more than necessary.

He was good at hunting and locating the more difficult of The Order's assignments. Despite their dislike of his methods. He liked his work – most of the time. And though several of his recent assignments had ended up deceased rather than returned for salvation, he didn't enjoy killing them as much as the Cardinal seemed to believe. Those deaths were unfortunate incidents that had happened as a result of lengthy battles and, in the case of Dr. Jekyll (or Mr. Hyde), some serious balance issues on the ledge of a cathedral.

Some of those deaths were not directly his fault. As such, he would not knowingly murder innocent people in order to feed.

The Dwergi dragged him down the long, icy corridor to his cell. He was certain he lost skin when they threw him across the floor because he almost lost a toe when they slammed the door shut. Far too tired to even drag himself to the corner, he curled up where he was and fell asleep.

Van Helsing slept for hours. He had been exhausted when he returned from his daring escape, more so after Dracula had sent him out to Rome. When he woke, he thought the last several weeks might have been a dream. The cold stone floor, windowless room and locked door reminded him that they hadn't been. Far from it. Much closer to a 'nightmare', but even those one can wake from; not this.

His escape attempt had proved fruitless. The castle's layout was difficult to navigate and Dracula had doubled the watch on Van Helsing's cell. Escape on its own no longer seemed a plausible action. He would have to wait for Carl. And hope The Order had not discovered his condition. He also had to believe Carl would find a cure by the time he was able to affect a rescue.

The only remaining problem would be how to kill Dracula. Carl's research indicated that Van Helsing, as a werewolf, should be able to defeat the vampire, but in his current condition, Van Helsing was sure he wouldn't be able to defeat anyone.

* * *

"Any luck?" Anna asked as she entered the library.

Carl shook his head. "Not much. I'm trying, but either there are missing volumes from the archives or some things weren't recorded."

Anna scowled. "No, we record everything. Even the unpleasant. It reminds us not to forget the lessons of the past. It should be here." She stepped forward to comb through several books on the shelves, scanning as though she knew where to find the information.

"I'll continue to research, but I believe some volumes are not here in the library." Carl returned to his notes and records. He had found plenty of information, but most of it wasn't helping him with the research he was conducting. He glanced up from the book before him. "I've found reference to a journal that pre-dates your father. Do you know anything about that?"

Anna turned from the shelf. "Yes. It should be with the rest of the family archives. Is it not there?"

"I didn't see it the last time I was there, but I'll check again."

"He was here," Anna said as she slumped into a nearby chair, old family album resting across her lap.

Startled by the strangeness and suddenness of the statement, Carl blinked at her and asked, "Who was here?" He thought she might have meant her brother – Velkan – though that did seem unlikely given his untimely demise over the side of a cliff. There was the thought that she meant Dracula – he had shown quite an interest in the princess prior to Van Helsing's capture, but he figured had that been the case a much louder alarm would have been sounded and an epic battle resulting in their deaths would have followed shortly thereafter, thus negating that theory. So, who else could she possibly be meaning?

She looked up at him, eyes heavy with sadness. "Van Helsing."

That was certainly unexpected and caused Carl to frown even deeper. "When?" And why hadn't he been made aware of his visit? He could have obtained useful information or samples for his research. Dammit, why did people not tell him these things?

"A few weeks after..." her voice broke off as though caught in her throat. She took a settling breath. "I- I- it was difficult to see him like that."

Carl nodded in understanding. "We'll figure this out, Anna. We'll get him back," he offered reassuringly. He had to believe that they would bring Van Helsing back – cured and ready to fight again. They needed him. The world needed him. Someone had to take care of all the nasties that went 'bump' in the night.

* * *

Noises in the corridor crept up on him, sneaking up his skin to crawl into his ears. He tried to focus on something other than the sharp stone in his ass. Hanging on the wall outside Dracula's chambers for better than a week had rubbed his nerves as raw as the skin on his back.

Dracula hadn't been out of his room since Van Helsing had been chained to the wall. Was that part of the plan - leave him alienated and alone? It wouldn't work. As alone as he was, he knew he still had someone out there fighting for him.

He heard footsteps echoing on the stone floor, but mostly ignored them, assuming they were Dwergi.

"Are you _praying_, Gabriel?" Dracula asked with a sneer. "He is not listening to you anymore.''

"Yes. He. Is." Van Helsing growled. And he knew He was. Carl had assured him that He was always listening. Despite Van Helsing's staunch refusal to pray regularly, Carl assured him that, no matter what, God was always listening.

Dracula laughed a deep, hearty chuckle. "Oh the hope of the hopeless." He smoothed his hand over Van Helsing's chest all the way down to his hip. "Would you like to play, Gabriel?"

Van Helsing shook his head. He was not interested in playing with Dracula at all. What he wanted was to go back to Rome and sleep for days. He'd been too long without good, solid sleep. Every noise was louder than it should have been and every movement he made was painful, no matter how often he made it.

"Too bad Gabriel," Dracula rumbled. His hand crept from Van Helsing's hipbone to his cock and began stroking slowly. "Oh, Gabriel," Dracula practically purred, "it's been too long since I've touched you. Have you missed this from me, Gabriel?"

He tried to pull away from Dracula's cold fingers, but the chains and the wall restricted his movements. His cock was hard, though he didn't want it to be; reacting to the grip on him; his hips bucking into the tightness of the hand around him.

"Yes, Gabriel," the vampire rumbled. "Yes, I want you to come for me, pet." He continued stroking Van Helsing's cock with smooth, firm motions.

Van Helsing tried as hard as he could to resist the inevitable, but the sensations he felt were too much. A cold, callused hand dragged up and down the length of his cock, a rough thumb brushed across the head. His body betrayed him, jerking and shaking, he spilled himself over Dracula's fingers and to the floor.

Dracula sighed contentedly. "Such an obedient pet. Good boy, Gabriel."

Van Helsing lowered his head in defeat. His entire body hung limply from the chains. He wanted to resist, to fight back, to not let Dracula do whatever he wanted, but he just didn't have the strength.

* * *

"I've got it!" Carl cheered and leapt from his seat. Was no one there to hear of his success?

He scrambled his papers together and tucked them against his chest on his way down the stairs. This was big. This was huge. This was important.

Carl stopped after a four foot slide along the corridor, braced against Anna's out-stretched arms. "I've got it!" he cried again.

Anna blinked and beamed. "Really, Carl? You've found my brother's secret?"

"Uh no. Sorry." Carl stepped back a bit, reshuffling the papers in his arms to keep them from falling to the floor. "I've figured out how to cure Van Helsing."

"Carl, that's wonderful!" Anna agreed and wrapped her arms around the friar in a congratulatory hug.

Carl nodded and would've hugged back had he not been keeping a tight hold on his research. "Yes. And I'll need to return to Rome to finish the tests. I'll take the research with me. See what I can find about your brother. I've gotten some good information. But I need some more time."

Anna tried to smile. "I understand. Thank you. Carl."

He nodded again.

******

Back in Rome, back in his lab, Carl was at home. He was fluttering around the table, mixing and boiling and pouring and stirring. He had found the answer. All that was needed was to put the pieces together.

There was one problem: based on the legends, he wouldn't have time to test the antidote before using it on Van Helsing. He had to pray that his formula would work based on his research alone.

"Here you are, Carl," Mark called as he rushed into the lab. "Moonlit water from the pawprint of a werewolf."

Carl knew it sounded ridiculous, but he also knew the value of folk legend and the power of celestial bodies and the elements. He may not have been the holiest of holy men, but he knew his science. Van Helsing had even commented on how he was able to determine practical applications for his knowledge. That had been a thrilling compliment coming from someone he respected and admired. It also made him happy that Van Helsing appreciated his work. Even if no one else did.

"Thank you, Mark," Carl said and set his solutions to mixing and bubbling again.

Mark stood by, handing Carl items as he requested them. "Carl, are you sure this is going to work?" Even to his scientific mind, some of Carl's work appeared to be more strange brews than scientific principles.

"No. But if I was sure, this wouldn't be science." He continued to bustle about, keeping all of the plates spinning at the same time. He loved his work, but quite often it was rife with waiting. It was the waiting he didn't like.

* * *

"What are you doing here? Who are you?" Anna growled at the men who marched into her village courtyard. The one thing she hated, more than losing family, was outsiders assuming they could help her. Van Helsing had been the surprising exception. His help was actually helpful. These men did not appear to be there to help her at all.

One of the men, a tall, thick man of sleek black hair and dark eyes, fierce and loyal, grabbed her arm and snarled in her face, "Where is Van Helsing?"

Stern look set on her face, Anna snapped, "I don't know."

"Tell me or don't, I will find him," the man growled threateningly.

"Then I wish you luck," Anna spat and jerked her arm free of his grasp. She didn't know where Van Helsing was. The last place she had seen him was in Dracula's castle, but he could be anywhere for all she knew. Technically, the last place she had seen him had been in her own castle, as a sleek black werewolf, but he had run away shortly after that. She hadn't seen him since.

The man hunting Van Helsing shoved Anna aside with a grunt of authority. "Spread out. Search everywhere," he called to his companions. Back to Anna, he growled, "And you, stay out of our way."

Anna stood tall, puffed up her chest and glared at the newcomer. '"This is my village. These are my people. You have no business here. I am asking you to leave, now." She didn't want these men in her village. She didn't want them disturbing her people, scaring them, trying to use them against her. They needed to leave immediately.

"We will leave," he said, towering over her, "when we have what we came for."

"He's not here!" she shouted at him.

The man from The Order sneered, turned his back on her and stalked across the square. He had his orders. He was to locate Van Helsing and either return him to Rome or kill him. The latter if Van Helsing was beyond redemption.

"Give me your name if you intend to raid my village!" Anna shouted at the leader of the 'rabble'.

The man turned his dark eyes on her. "Mesoraco," he tossed over his shoulder.

"Anna Va-"

"I know who you are, Princess," he interrupted. "Don't get in our way. I don't want to have to hurt you."

Anna was almost certain that was more of a threat than a warning - or a request. That made her hackles rise and got her ire up; had her ready for a fight.

* * *

Carl had pages and charts and books spread all over his desk, the floor, and the walls. Each new lead presented a new question that required more digging. He had the main tree tacked to the largest wall of his room with each family member tacked into place along the branches as he determined where they belonged.

Boris and Anna, Velkan and his mother, the generation before them and the generations before those. He had sought the missing sibling as Anna suggested but had come up with nothing. Instead, he traced Velkan and Anna separately through the archives. Anna's lineage traced cleanly through her father and brother. Velkan, on the other hand, had pieces missing. Carl was able to trace Velkan through his mother, connecting him to Anna, but could find no record of his father, other than his father being someone other than Boris.

He scoured every book, scroll or other source available to him. Nothing. A small scrap of fabric caught his eye when be shifted some books. He lifted it to his eyes, squinted at it, then slipped on his goggles for a closer inspection. There were three small lines inscribed with ink on the back. The lines didn't mean much out of context, but paired with his genealogy notes for the family and a few obscure references to a male visitor to the castle, Carl pieced together the puzzle.

"Well I'll be damned," he muttered and held the scrap of fabric up where the name of Velkan's father should be tacked.

* * *

"I am sorry, Master. I have not been able to locate the information you desire. The books number in the thousands and the other records more than that. I've barely had time to finish half the library," the short, fat man relayed his story to Dracula through the mirror-doorway.

"I don't want excuses, you fool. I want answers!" Dracula bellowed. He leapt to the ceiling, clasped his hands behind his back, and started pacing. "I want you to go back to castle Valerious. Find the information for me."

Spluttering and whimpering, the fat man bowed low as he backed out of the room. "Yes, Master. I will find it for you. You do not have to worry."

"I know," Dracula confirmed, still hanging from the ceiling.

The mirror-doorway closed with a soft whoosh of sound. Dracula dropped from the ceiling swiftly and smoothly, landed his booted feet on the cold stone floor, then marched toward his chambers. He was in the mood to play.

He stopped outside his door. Hanging on the wall outside his room was his newest pet. His greatest achievement. His greatest triumph. He had gained control of the most notorious of The Order's hunters. The great Van Helsing. The one man who could have defeated him was now under his control.

'Was now hanging from shackles, naked on his wall. The sight, as he approached, was beautiful. He listened for the man's heartbeat and stepped a slow almost-waltz toward him. He had one last feat to accomplish with his pet – to make him remember their glorious past.

"Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel. What fun I will have with you tonight." He waved a hand and Dwergi rushed to release his pet from the wall. "Bring him inside. Tie him to the bed," Dracula instructed.

Dracula watched the Dwergi drag Van Helsing into the room, over the stone floor and toss him, face down, on the bed. They stretched his arms and legs to tie them to the four posts of the bed. Once they had completed their task, they scurried away.

The scratches and bruises - from both the wall and the rough handling by the Dwergi -were like a work of art. Dracula stood at the foot of the bed to study it. "Gabriel. You do remember I owe you a punishment for your little escape attempt, yes?" He shook his head slowly and gave a small sigh. "I am in a mood tonight, so I will give you what you deserve."

He heard Van Helsing groan in protest, fight and struggle against the new restraints. He watched his pet's desire to get free grow stronger while he was doing nothing. 'Several more minutes of watching and his lovely pet was a resisting, nervous mess sprawled on the bed. Exactly what he had been wanting – enough presence of self to resist, but still enough fear to be wary of the coming events.

"Gabriel, be still," Dracula commanded and Van Helsing immediately ceased all movement. "Good boy. Now how shall I punish you tonight my pet?"

Van Helsing growled that he didn't want to be punished at all. The chains on his limbs rattled as he struggled against the restraints. These seemed to have more give than those on the wall, but they didn't afford him any more leverage to break free.

He stepped to the wall by the bed and drew his fingers along several implements hanging neatly there. Coming to one he thought appropriate, he plucked it from the wall – a long, thin wooden cane with enough flexibility to curve around the body. "Now, now, you tried to escape, Gabriel. How will you learn not to do these things if I do not punish you when you do wrong?" Dracula snapped the cane against his hand with a loud crack. "How many lashes, Gabriel?"

"None," the man on the bed grumbled.

Dracula cracked the cane against the bedpost. "How many, Gabriel?!" he asked again, voice booming louder in the chamber.

"None!" Van Helsing snarled.

This time the cane snapped across Van Helsing's shoulders. Dracula practically drank in the sound of the scream. "I will ask you once more time, Gabriel. How. Many?"

Van Helsing fought to get air into his lungs after the sting of wood across his shoulders. "Five," he growled into the pillow beneath his face.

"Only five, pet? I'm sure you can take more than that. But we shall start with five." Dracula was pleased with this outcome – at least he had gotten his pet to yield to the punishment. He could work on the rest.

Dracula snapped the cane onto Van Helsing's back five times in quick succession. Angry red welts striped the tanned flesh. Two of the welts had even begun to seep blood. The sight was delicious. The smell was almost overwhelming.

Mixed with those was the beautiful sound of Van Helsing's cries of pain. They made him shiver with delight. "Oh how I do love that sound, Gabriel," he commented idly as he flexed the cane between his hands.


	6. Chapter 6

Carl held the pipette in one hand, the test tube in the other and gently dropped the cure he had developed into the sample of Van Helsing's werewolf blood. Under the microscope, the sample changed. He couldn't determine how, but he knew it changed. He knew the strange aspect Mark had found had mutated, but didn't disappear entirely.

It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. He had no other option. There were only three weeks left to locate Van Helsing and inject him with this cure. The next full moon was the last chance. The need to locate Van Helsing had suddenly grown far more pressing.

The mystery from Velkan's vague clues regarding the Valerious family was important as well, but finding Van Helsing was more important. At least for the next few weeks. Once he had located and rescued his friend, he could devote more time to other projects. Until then, Van Helsing had to be his focus.

As Carl was preparing his solutions and putting his supplies away, Mark came into the lab. He didn't look happy. Mark was always happy.

"Carl, The Order is dispatching operatives to locate Van Helsing," Mark informed him with a shake of his head.

Angrily, Carl slammed a wooden box onto the table. "Dammit! They were supposed to let me find him!"

Mark pressed his hands against Carl's shoulders. "Carl, the operatives are already gone."

"What?" Carl was fuming, steam nearly coming out of his ears. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just found out. I came here as soon as I knew." He held firm on Carl's shoulders, trying to prevent the man from tearing apart his lab in a rage. "They made sure no one knew."

Carl broke free and began to gather things into a bag. "We have to go. I have to go. I have to find him first."

"You don't even know where he is. Let them find him."

"I can't.''

"Why not?"

"They'll kill him!" Carl shouted and stuffed the antidote into the bag. "I can't let that happen," he snarled, then climbed the stairs out of the lab.

* * *

Those first five lashes had almost been more than he could bear. That was some of the worst pain he had ever experienced. Worse than that, he knew there would be more. He had asked for five assuming Dracula wouldn't go beyond ten. He took a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer that ten would be the maximum.

"Are you ready for the rest of your punishment, Gabriel?" Dracula asked him.

He nodded. He was not ready, but he had no desire to delay the inevitable. He wanted this torture to be over quickly.

The next stroke landed across his ass and burned like fire. He could feel the red welt rising on his skin. Another stroke across his back, then two more on his shoulders cut into his skin like knives laid in hot coals. He couldn't prevent the howls of agony from escaping his throat. The pain was too much

"'Do you think that's enough, Gabriel?" Dracula asked him and he was certain the vampire's implication was that he would very much like to continue lashing him with the wooden cane.

"Yes," he gasped. He wasn't sure he could tolerate any more pain.

Thankfully, Dracula seemed to agree and tossed the cane away. But, he was back moments later, kneeling on the bed between his legs, smearing the blood from the wounds across his skin. Dracula's touch was cold, almost soothing, compared to the salt sting from Carl he'd felt in the past. He wanted to shrink away from it, did not want to take any form of comfort from this brutal enemy.

"My, my, Gabriel, what handsome stripes you now wear," Dracula cooed in that eerie tone of his. "What shall I do with you next?" he asked rhetorically.

Van Helsing wanted to answer 'Let me sleep,' but knew that would earn him nothing of the kind. Therefore, he remained silent and motionless. His body was far too tired to move even if he'd wanted to. All he could hope was for it all to be over quickly

Knowing Dracula, 'over quickly' was about as likely as 'immediate rescue'.

He howled in surprise and pain when he felt the hard, cold slap of a hand against his backside. Tears sprang to his eyes, the pain was so sudden and jarring. He was close to begging for mercy. Close. His pride and stubborn will prevented him from taking that final step. He _needed_ to hold on to that last bit of self control.

Once he had enough of his self back to think again, he set his mind to prayer. It took a strong effort of will to maintain his prayer as prayer and not as a desperate plea. He needed the comfort of knowing someone was watching over him and let Carl's insistence that God always was, help him survive the madness of his incarceration.

* * *

Carl didn't wait for permission to leave for the Carpathians. He just left with his baggage, the cure he had created and all of the research on the Valerious family. His trip was fine until he was accosted on the ship. A burly man, full of stocky muscle, demanded Carl hand over his belongings. All of them.

Flat out, Carl refused. The man demanded again and Carl was forced to explain the physics of being kicked in the balls in such a way that would prevent the man from trying again.

Apparently the man just didn't have the capability to learn. But moments before Carl felt he would need to demonstrate his skills, the attempted brawl was interrupted. Carl was going to thank the newcomer who had prevented the need for him to kick the burly man, but when he recognized the newcomer as one of the operatives of The Order, he was far less certain of his gratitude.

"Well, Carl," the man began, almost jovial in his heavy Spanish-accented Italian, "what brings you on board a ship bound for Romania?" he asked with a tone that he had been informed of Carl's departure and knew more than he was claiming.

Carl searched his brain for the man's name, but came up empty. "I'm on a research mission," he lied. Fibbed really, since he was doing research only, not officially.

"Research?" the man scoffed as though it were a bad taste. ''What could you possibly need to research in the Carpathians?"

Carl wanted to retort with a witty insult, but managed to refrain at the last minute. "Family history of the Valerious lineage," he replied as a way to keep up his façade without launching into full-on lies.

Hidalgo - that was his name - grabbed Carl by his collar and dragged him toward the meager cabins. "You can do your research just as well from here as you can from the deck," he snarled. Obviously, the man had already decided he did not approve of Carl's presence on the ship.

Carl's hackles rose. He hated being ordered around and hated being handled even more. "Let go of me. I will go where I like."

"No, you won't." Hidalgo towered over Carl. "You will stay where I tell you or risk more than your pride."

Carl growled at being threatened. "So you would leave me to the mongrels?"

"If you don't do as you're told, yes."

As loathe as he was to comply with threats from those who thought themselves better than him, he hated the idea of being subjected to whatever some of the men on the ship had in mind. It was times like these that he really missed Van Helsing.

* * *

"Mesoraco!" one of the other Operatives called, running through the castle. "There's a corner missing from the map upstairs."

Anna was confused and surprised by this news. How had they known about the map? And who had removed the corner? She hadn't, but she couldn't recall if Carl had taken it when he left or not - either time.

Mesoraco seemed pleased by this development. He turned to Anna and asked, "Where is the missing piece?'

"I don't know," she answered forcefully.

"Princess, you are severely trying my patience with your resistance. We have a mission. We will find a passage to Dracula's castle with or without your help."

Anna was beginning to think this man from The Order was convinced he was intimidating her into doing what he wanted. "Then you'll have to do it without my help, because I only know one way there and without that piece of the map, the doorway's un-open-able." That was more information than he deserved, but she needed him out of her way so she could try to figure something out on her own.

"You had better pray that either that piece reappears or that we find another way," Mesoraco snarled at her. He turned to the man who'd brought the bad news. "Scour the castle. Find one or the other."

The other operative nodded in acknowledgment. A moment later, he was gone.

"What are you going to do when you find him? Dracula or Van Helsing? Do you even know how to kill Dracula?" Anna snapped. She crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at Mesoraco.

He was not at all pleased with her questioning him about his mission. "We don't need to kill Dracula. We only need to return Van Helsing to Rome."

Anna knew better. There was no way they could get Van Helsing back without killing Dracula. "You'll fail," she informed him. "Dracula is more powerful and resourceful than you can imagine. If you think he'll just let you take Van Helsing without a fight, I suggest you develop a new plan."

"I assume you know how to kill Dracula?"

"I have the theory that was proposed to Van Helsing. I know nothing of it's validity, given that Dracula is still alive."

Mesoraco arched an eyebrow at her. "And what was this theory?"

Anna sighed. "That only a werewolf can kill Dracula."

"That's nonsense," he snorted, turned on his heel and started away.

"Good luck finding a better solution," she told him.

* * *

Dracula finished with his 'punishment' then strung Van Helsing up outside his chambers again. The difference this time was that he was facing the wall. That was great comfort to the new wounds on his back, but much less comfort to his sensitive groin. He was starting to miss his dank cell.

What he wanted was for Dracula to leave him alone for a night. Just one. He was exhausted from the constant transformations during the full moon, the assignments Dracula had sent him on and Dracula torturing him. He needed time to recuperate. To rest.

He also needed food. He needed to find a way to convince Dracula to feed him. Something that didn't require him to kill anyone. Because no matter how starved he was, that was the one satisfaction he would not give his captor.

The major disadvantage to this position of facing the wall was that he couldn't see anyone or anything that came down the corridor. _That_ he found highly disconcerting. Especially when the Dwergi would shuffle by with their implements and those would brush against the wounds on his back causing immense amounts of pain.

He was starting to believe that Dracula enjoyed the sound of his screams. Van Helsing would have preferred not to be subjected to such tortures, but he couldn't give Dracula that satisfaction. However, he was starting to get the feeling there was something else Dracula was interested in. Something he wanted him to remember.

_What do you want from me?_ he muttered against the wall.

"Only what is mine, Gabriel," a voice responded to him. Followed shortly by. "Yes, Gabriel, I can hear your thoughts. I know you want me to let you go. And you know I can't do that. I need you here."

"Why?" he rasped. He truly did not understand Dracula's rationale for holding him prisoner.

Dracula exhaled a long-suffering sigh and shook his head. "Oh, Gabriel. Why does it always take you so long?"

"So long for what?" he rasped, his dry throat greatly in need of water.

"For you..." Dracula trailed off and turned away.

Van Helsing growled and rattled his chains in an attempt to pull himself loose. "What is it that takes so long?" he snarled.

Dracula was behind him, quick as lightning. Long, bony fingers curled around his hips, cold as ice and the feel of Dracula's cloak roughed against the damaged skin of his back. Had he been able to draw air to breathe, he would have howled in pain. Once he regained his senses, he felt the burgeoning erection pressed against his backside. There was a distinct, sharp inhale of the skin of his neck. The vampire was right there.

"Gabriel," Dracula hissed in his ear and ground his hips against Van Helsing's ass. Dracula released a soft groan. Mere moments later, those long fingers on his hips curled around the length of his cock and began to stroke. Slowly.

Van Helsing still hated the fact that his body had a positive, give-me-more reaction to Dracula's ministrations, while his mind was focused on how repulsive it was to be aroused by an enemy. He couldn't even get his mind to focus on something beyond his immediate experience, given how tired he was.

His cock hardened under the smooth manipulation of Dracula's hand. The hand that held him just the way he liked; stroked him in ways he never knew he liked - so how did Dracula know? Where did that information come from? He moaned and dropped his head back, felt it land against Dracula's shoulder and wanted to scream at his body for betraying him. Dracula stroked him expertly and kept grinding his own erection against Van Helsing's ass. That excited him more. His hips started rocking against Dracula's hand, the pain in his back suddenly a distant throb.

"Ah, yes!" Dracula rumbled, hot breath in his ear. "Yes, Gabriel. More!"

The stroking motions didn't change, but Dracula kept feeding him encouraging words, wanting more hip thrusting and grinding from him. Van Helsing wanted to do everything but; however, he could not convince his body to follow his mental commands. He curled his fingers around the cold chains that held the manacles around his wrists and felt his hips moving harder and faster with the added leverage.

"Yes, sweet, Gabriel, give me what I want from you," Dracula croaked as he slid his free hand to smooth over Van Helsing's chest.

He resisted as long as he could, but the end was inevitable. His come spilled over Dracula's hand. Dracula caught it and coated Van Helsing's cock with it as a lubricant to continue stroking him through the end. Van Helsing nearly passed out from the sensations. Arms limp, his body sagged against the wall, wrists pinched in the manacles from supporting his weight.

Dracula casually drew his tongue across the newly reopened wounds on Van Helsing's back. "Mmm, delicious, Gabriel."

Van Helsing shivered as violently as his weary body would let him and tried to contain the howl of pain as the feeling rushed to the nerve endings in his back. Dracula had tasted his blood. A new fear entered his mind - that Dracula, having gotten a taste for his blood, would want more. He couldn't let that happen.

* * *

Hidalgo knocked at Carl's door to let him know they would be docking soon and he should come on deck once he had collected his belongings. Carl knew he had some time and finished sifting through the book he'd had in front of him for the last few hours.

Carl gathered his items and climbed up to the deck. The water was deep blue and rough from winds. A storm was coming in from the east. It tossed the ship about as it made its way to port.

He curled his fingers tightly around the railing to keep himself steady. Despite feeling that he was turning green, he held tight to his bag of books and research materials. That was far more important than his lunch.

A heavy hand clapped him on the shoulder. For a brief moment, he thought it was Van Helsing coming to rescue him, but the voice he heard didn't match. "Are you all right, Carl?"

"Fine, Hidalgo, thank you," he replied moments before hurling his dinner over the side of the ship the hard way.

Hidalgo chuckled and shook his head. Carl tried not to roll his eyes as he righted himself and stumbled down to the dingy that would take them ashore.

He sighed contentedly when he set foot on dry land. He needed to find Van Helsing and get him home soon. All of this trekking around the world and burying himself in books, while not entirely unpleasant, was starting to wear on his nerves. He needed to find the last pieces of the puzzle, solve all of this and take Van Helsing back home.


	7. Chapter 7

"You! Stop right there!" Anna yelled from across the entryway at the portly man hurrying for the door, his arms laden with scrolls and books.

The man stopped a meter from the door. Moments away from escape and he had been caught. Master would not be pleased with him at all.

"Are you going to tell me you left your notes in your saddlebags this time?" she growled, hands perched on her sharp hips.

Sergei shook his head. "No, Mistress, I... I..." He didn't have a good explanation for where he was going with the pages in his arms and anything he might invent, she would surely see through immediately. "I've been compelled to take them, Mistress."

"Take them where? By whom?"

Damn. She was not going to make this easy for him. "I- I don't know, Mistress. I'm only compelled to take them to where I'm led."

Anna frowned. "If you don't know where you're 'compelled' to take them, then how do you know that someone is compelling you to do so?"

Sergei stammered a moment, then decided to admit what he was doing. "I was ordered to find information about Velkan and report back to my Master."

"And who is your 'Master'?" she asked with a snarl.

"I only know him as 'Master'," he replied.

She growled at him and directed him toward the interior of the castle. "Dining room. Put everything on the table and have a seat," she ordered.

Arms folded over her chest, Anna stood over him, nearly breathed down his neck. He found it to be quite an uncomfortable position. She flipped through his pages of notes – none of which she would be able to understand because he had written them in code. That would explain the scowl on her face when she looked at him again.

"What is this?" she asked and pointed to his books and notes.

He stumbled a bit, but managed, "They are notes on research I was doing."

"For your Master?" she prompted.

"Yes, Mistress," Sergei answered with a nod. "I am sorry, Mistress. I was only doing what I was ordered to do."

Anna scowled at him again. "What is your Master going to do with all of this?"

"I don't know."

"These answers are not helping your case at all, Sergei."

He lowered his head, eyes focused on the floor. "I do not know what else to say. I have done what I was instructed and it has upset you."

"It has more than 'upset' me, Sergei. You have violated the trust of the Valerious family," she snarled.

Sergei said nothing in response. He knew this was the end. Master would not be pleased that he hadn't returned with the information and Anna would not let him leave the castle again. He was certain of it.

As he had suspected, he would not be permitted to leave. Anna had called several guards to haul Sergei to a cell and lock him there until she had time to deal with him.

"Again, Mistress," he said as he was lead away in shackles, "I am sorry."

Anna didn't respond. He turned away from her and watched his feet pass over the floor as he was led to the cell where he would be spending quite a considerable bit of time, he was sure.

* * *

Dracula prowled the corridors, making his way to the cavern set weithin the west tower. The cavern where Van Helsing had found his other pet. That had been a beautiful stroke of luck. His bitch had been in heat and had done a fabulous job of seducing his new pet into mounting her.

He had hopes of breeding his own werewolves, but he wasn't sure if it would even work. If the bitch became pregnant while in wolf form would she stay in wolf form or would she shift back to human once the full moon had passed? If she wasn't carrying now, he might not find out for at least another month.

When he arrived at the cavern, the cage was open and his tawny pet was nowhere to be seen. Obviously she was out hunting That made him quite happy. At least one of his werewolf pets was doing what they were supposed to do.

He called several Dwergi to clean the cage and provide fresh water. He wanted her to be comfortable. There had been times when he had considered making her his new bride, but he was afraid she'd lose the werewolf side of her personality, so he left her as she was. Periodically, he would let her play with his other captives so she wouldn't be lonely.

Lonely. He was frequently lonely in his icy palace, now that his brides were gone. There hadn't been anyone that struck his fancy since then, save Anna. But even she would have been hard to control. Instead he would have to settle for having Van Helsing as his pet.

* * *

"Carl?" Anna greeted him in the square. "I see you've brought friends." This particular development didn't please her as much as seeing Carl had. Especially considering his 'friends' looked an awful lot like Knights of the Holy Order. She already had some of those.

Carl snorted derisively. "They claim to be 'reinforcements'," he explained.

Anna frowned, brow furrowed deep. "How dangerous do they think Dracula is?"

Carl shook his head, his mood solemn.

"They're here for Van Helsing," Anna concluded, "Do they think he wants to stay?"

Hidalgo stepped up, towered over Anna and said, "We don't know what to expect. That is why we require the extra manpower." The man spoke in nearly flawless Romanian. It was an impressive display of arrogance.

"Surely you don't need an army to rescue one man," Anna countered.

Hidalgo exhaled heavily over the princess. "This is not a rescue mission. Van Helsing is being taken in for questioning. If he isn't killed before we find him."

Anna watched the operative stalk away toward Mesoraco. She leaned in close to Carl. "They're going to kill him aren't they?"

Carl shook his head. "I hope not. I'm going to do what is necessary to bring him back alive." He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "I hope their orders aren't in a direct clash with my plans."

"We can only hope." She paused for several moments, then, "Carl, we have to find him first."

He nodded. "And before they learn, what I found out about your family."

"What?" she gasped. Before Carl could say anything else, she was pulling him into the ramshackle barn that had yet to be repaired after the vampire attack. "What did you find? Do I have another brother? A sister?"

Carl shook his head, "No." He waited a moment for townsfolk to pass by. "You and Velkan have the same mother, but different fathers."

Anna stared, dumbfounded at Carl for several seconds. He watched the disbelief and pain pass over her face. No words came.

"I'm sorry, Anna. It's what I found." He hated bearing bad news.

"Who?" she asked through a steep inhale.

Carl shook his head. "I'm not sure I should tell you. It won't help anything."

"Carl," she chastised, stubborn.

"Fine," Carl said. "Velkan's father is..."

A loud trumpeting horn sounded from across the square. Carl ducked behind a feed trough. Anna swore and grabbed the nearest implement that could be used as a weapon.

"What's going on?" Carl asked, trying vainly not to tremble in fear.

"Bukovac," she hissed at him across the barn. "They started creeping into the village after the vampires left." She stood firmly in the door with her farm-implement poised for attack.

Carl grumbled to himself: "Bukovac. Of course. Of course it would be one of the few creatures Van Helsing has never had to face." He knew of them, but hadn't had reason to do extensive research on the creatures.

Unfortunately his current position didn't afford him the opportunity to perform some research on them now. All of his books were too far away. All he knew of them was that they strangled their victims. And they lived in or near water.

"Do you know how to kill it?" he asked Anna.

She snapped her head around to face him. "I've killed a few. Usually we run them back into the water."

Carl nodded. "Do you need me to help?"

"No. Stay here. Yell if you see someone in trouble." She stepped out of the barn, walking quietly along the outer wall.

_Oh good. Because I really wasn't interested in fighting today anyway,_ Carl said to himself with a sigh. He kept watch through a break in the wooden boards. The Bukovac - just one - had wandered into the village and was making a hell of a lot of noise.

He could see the villagers - some taking up arms to aid in the fight, others cowering behind closed doors and peeking through windows, others still rushing children and slower villagers to safety. The men from The Order helped Anna and her group of hunters patrol the village. He was happy to stay back and watch and learn.

Several minutes later Anna and her party returned to the square. Minus a large multi-armed creature. Surprisingly, Anna wasn't yelling at any of the men from The Order. In fact, she seemed to be almost cordial with Hidalgo. So cordial that they passed the barn and continued to the castle, forgetting Carl was still there.

_Well then._ Carl scoffed to himself playfully. If Anna was happy, Carl could forgive being left alone in the barn post-monster hunt.

He left the barn and started for the castle in hopes of finding a bite to eat before sequestering himself in the tower or the library to do more research.

* * *

Anna and Hidalgo had dinner at the end of a long table in the dining hall. The other men had eaten earlier as a group. Hidalgo had asked Anna for a less public meal. Her first response had been a polite decline, but he pressed gently until she changed her mind.

Once she sat down and talked with him, she found she had several things in common with him - weaponry, hunting - she discovered it was easy to talk to him. They both were missing family members - her parents and a brother, him a sister and his father.

Midway through their meal, Anna remembered that she had left Carl outside in the barn. She rose from the table, nearly knocked her plate to the floor. "I am so sorry. I have to... I forgot something I need to do."

He caught her arm. "Carl's fine. He's in the library."

"Oh," she conceded and returned to her seat. "Good." She shook her head, face flushed with embarrassment. "I can't believe I left him. I don't do things like that."

"I'm sure he'll understand," Hidalgo told her.

They continued to talk through much of the night. Hidalgo walked Anna to her chambers when Mesoraco came through the dining hall insisting they retire for the night. They talked a bit more before Hidalgo bid her a 'good night' and took his leave for the room that had been converted to a guest chamber for the men of The Order.

Anna lay down on her bed, stretched out to catch whatever cool air came through the room. It was still winter outside, but she was flushed warm. The last time she had felt that way was the night she had kissed Van Helsing before he took off to fight Dracula. But that had been a different heat within her. That had been a great rush of passion. The way she had felt with Hidalgo was more intense, almost tactile. That was new. She had not had much opportunity to socialize recently and not much more when she had been growing up with her brother and father. Werewolf hunting had left little time for much else and her mother had passed away before she could teach Anna the finer points of life as a gypsy princess.

Anna found her mind focusing on her conversation with Hidalgo from earlier and his fighting tactics. That had drawn her initial attention - the smooth way he attacked and parried during the skirmish with the Bukovac. The other interesting attributes came later. Those surprised her since she had not considered any of the men who had come to her village as potential mates. There seemed to be no good reason not to consider it now.


	8. Chapter 8

Carl placed the piece of the tapestry into its corner, then recited the Latin incantation. He caught the annoyed sneer from Mesoraco, presumably because he'd been sitting on the answer to how the door opened this whole time. There was no time for arguing the point. Van Helsing was in trouble and Carl was going to make sure he got out of it alive.

The operatives flanked Carl and Anna as they approached the icy fortress of Dracula's castle. The plan, on the surface, was simple - get in, get Van Helsing, get out and get home. Taking out Dracula was a secondary objective. Carl's only concern was Van Helsing.

''Where do we find him?" Mesoraco asked as he stared up at the massive doors barring their progress.

Carl shook his head. "I don't know. One of the towers, I'd expect." With a sigh, Carl asked the more immediate question: "How do we get through this door?"

"How'd you get in last time?" Mesoraco asked, voice gruff.

Anna snorted. "We had some help."

Mesoraco waved some men forward. "Get the door open. We need to get inside, find Van Helsing."

Carl and Anna shared a look as they waited for Mesoraco's men to get the door open. They knew the doors were heavy, but that they could be opened since they had gone through them during their rush to escape the last time. Neither could recall how they'd gotten back to Castle Valerious, but they did remember these doors.

Apparently the strength of ten determined operatives of the Knights of the Holy Order was enough to force its doors open with a few feet of space for them to enter. Though, not enough to keep Anna and Carl from following. They had their own investment in this mission.

Carl heard Mesoraco order one of his men to keep a close watch on he and Anna. Unimpressed, Anna and Carl accepted their chaperone and continued into the castle.

"Any idea where he might be being held?" Anna whispered to Carl.

He shook his head. "No idea. But we'd better find him before they do."

Anna tacitly agreed and stayed close to Carl as they walked. When they passed an alcove she pushed Carl toward it then slipped back into the shadows when their 'escort' wasn't paying attention. The alcove was, in actuality, a corridor. They walked seeking a sign of - anything. Light, movement, life, shadows - any sign that this wasn't a dead end.

* * *

"Any idea where he might be?" Anna asked as they continued down a long corridor.

Carl shook his head. "I don't know but we have to find him."

"I would usually say we should stay together for this, but we might do better if we split up," she suggested.

Carl agreed it was probably better to stay together, but also agreed they needed to find Van Helsing quickly. "I think we should split up, for the sake of covering more ground." He stopped at a crossway in the corridor. "Meet back at he lab. Even if we don't find him, that's the most likely place everyone will end up."

Anna nodded. "Good luck, Carl," she said, then tuned down the corridor on the left.

"You as well," he said and took the corridor to the right.

******

A tall winding staircase came into view at the end of the corridor. He stared up into the center. _That is a lot of stairs._ Slowly, he began to climb higher and higher into the tower.

Periodically he would check his progress and take a moment to peer down the corridors in search of signs of Van Helsing. He also had to stop several times to rest his legs and his lungs. He never had been able to figure out the need for having such ostentatious buildings when to get around them, there was need of so damned many stairs.

Nearly at the top of the staircase, he heard a roar, a shout of frustration and pain. He only chose to investigate because the sound was more human than animal.

The figure he spotted as he rounded the corner was small, but appeared to be a man chained to a wall. Dear God, what had Dracula done to him? Carl quickened his pace, rushing to help Van Helsing.

* * *

"Carl? What are you doing here?" Van Helsing rasped, not sure he wasn't imagining his friend standing in the hallway.

"I'd call it a rescue, but I'm not cut out for anything quite that brave," he responded.

Van Helsing sighed at Carl's self-deprecation. "Fine. Don't be brave, but can you unlock the chains before your courage runs out?"

"Probably, but I need to administer something first." Carl wielded the antidote syringe in front of him like a high-damage weapon.

"What is that?" Van Helsing asked with great concern – for his own safety.

Carl sighed heavily. "The antidote for your werewolf curse." He did _not_ have time to explain it all right now. People were in danger of dying and he wasn't sure how long this antidote would retain its potency.

"Does it work?"

"We're about to find out." Before Van Helsing could make further objections, Carl injected the syringe and pressed the plunger to send the antidote into his bloodstream.

"Dammit!" Van Helsing howled body jerking against the restraints.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel. I had no choice. Oh, and you might get a bit of an energy jolt."

"What?" Van Helsing growled, then, "Get me out of these chains. Now!"

It took longer than both of them would have liked, but Carl unlocked the manacles and helped Van Helsing slump to the ground. With his arm around his friend's waist, he noticed how malnourished the man truly was. His ribs were barely covered by skin, much less muscle. It nearly made him weep.

Carl sifted through the bag at his feet and withdrew a pouch of dried meat. "Here." He handed the pouch to Van Helsing. "Eat this. You'll need the strength." He retrieved a flagon of water as well and presented it to his fallen friend. "Drink slowly." He glanced up and down the corridor. "And we should probably get out of here soon. Before Dracula returns or the others from The Order find us."

"The Order?" Van Helsing grumbled between chews.

"Don't start. It wasn't my idea. Come on. Let's get out of here now. Worry about The Order later." Carl hauled Van Helsing to his feet, let him stretch his sore muscles a bit and get used to standing, then lead him down the corridor.

Van Helsing stumbled on the stairs. He leaned heavily against the walls several times on the way down, his muscles not yet accustomed to movement after so many hours in one position. He wanted clothing to ward off the chill, but had no idea where to find any, so relented himself to the idea of prowling the icy fortress of Dracula's castle naked. He hadn't been permitted to wander the castle during his incarceration, meaning locating anything would be difficult at best. The only time he hadn't been chained up was when he had been in the cells he had occupied. And any time Dracula had him in bed and had not tied him down first. Then during his one, failed, escape attempt. Not nearly often enough to explore the castle.

He leaned heavily against the stairwell wall again. 'Resisted Carl's urging to keep moving. He needed to rest.

"Gabriel, we can't stop for long. We need to get out of here."

That specific wording, that exact inflection, set off a chain reaction, starting with a brief scene of himself and Aleksandr running from someone, needing to escape. Suddenly memories of a past life flooded into his consciousness. They weighed heavily on him as they all rushed in at the same time. He remembered Aleksandr as a friend, a lover, from the time before he became the monster, the demon. The vampire.

It pained him to remember so much without knowing why it had been forgotten. Why would he... The Order. That was when The Order had taken his memories. What he could not recall was whether that was by his own choice or as a punishment for some grave wrong he had done.

"Van Helsing, we have to keep moving," Carl urged again and tried to lift him away from the wall.

"Give me a minute," he said, a hand on Carl's shoulder.

Carl gave him a concerned look. "Are you all right? Do you need more food?"

He could actually use more food – and liniment, but Carl was right, they needed to move. He shook the memories off as best he could and propped himself upright off the wall. A nod to Carl, "Let's go. He'll discover I'm missing and come searching for me." He started down the stairs again, moving a little easier as his strength began to return. Carl close behind him. "He'll find us. Me. It won't take him long. He's efficient and thorough." He stopped at he bottom of a set of stairs. "He's connected to me."

Carl rested a hand on Van lading's hip. "I know, Gabriel. But we really need to get going again."

He nodded and started down the stairs one more time. The reality of what had to happen next struck him like a boot to the chest. Facing Dracula had not been easy the first time - before he was made into a vampire - there was no way this time would be any easier. At least the first time he had been at full strength.

"I don't know if I can do this, Carl," he stated. Again, he leaned against a wall and took deep breaths as his head spun with the information.

"Do what?" the friar asked.

"Fight." He shook his head. "I'm nowhere near full strength and I don't have the wolf anymore. I'm getting stronger from whatever you did, but I don't know if it's enough." He didn't want to still carry the werewolf curse, but it had been an asset during the previous fight. Despite unfortunate cloud movements.

Carl grabbed Van Helsing's shoulders and shook him enough to hold his attention. "You can do this. You have the will. I know you-"

"Move!" he barked and gave Carl a push to the left. Moments before an angry Dwergi worker charged through the door with a long pike. Van Helsing batted the pike away, forcing it to lodge in the wall. His muscles ached from the movement, but the pain was tolerable compared to being skewered.

"Look out!" Carl cried as a second and third Dwergi worker made similar attacks. He kicked one while Van Helsing struggled with the other two.

In need of a weapon, Van Helsing snatched the pike from the nearest Dwergi, flipped it across the back of his hand, then thrust it between the eyes of the Dwergi attacking his knees. The creature screamed an unholy sound as it stumbled and toppled down the next flight of stairs.

It's companion, angrier now, redoubled it's attack on Van Helsing. The one trying to thump on Carl, abandoned his post and moved to tag-team with it's comrade. Van Helsing disposed of the two as quickly as his tired body would allow. The marks on his back had reopened when he had been slammed against the wall and they hurt again – stinging pain that made him want to scream. He pushed the pain to the back of his mind. He had work to do.

He gave Carl a nod, then peered around the doorway, investigating for additional attackers. A signal to Carl that the corridor was clear, then they stepped out of the stairwell.

"Do you know where you're going?" Carl asked.

"Lab's down here," he grunted.

"How do you know?"

Van Helsing tipped his nose over his shoulder. "I can smell it."

Carl blinked and tried not to stumble his steps. "Smell?"

Van Helsing shrugged and shook his head. He did not have time to explain at the moment. There was a demon to face and then he wanted to go home. He was four months behind on his sleep.

******

They rounded a corner. Van Helsing stopped and pressed a hand against Carl's chest, pressed him back against the wall. ''Wait here," he whispered and stepped into the shadows cast by the towering equipment. They had reached the lab, but so had someone else. He couldn't take the chance that it was Dracula without keeping Carl out of harm's way.

He edged back to the doorway. "Carl, I need you to do something for me."

"The last time you said that I had to set a vampire on fire," Carl responded, trying not to stammer.

Van Helsing didn't react at all to that statement. "There's a woman. In a cavern in the west tower, near where you found me." He blinked and looked at Carl. "Find her. If you can. She needs help."

Carl nodded. He knew that look. "I, I'll do what I can."

"Thank you."

He didn't wait to see Carl leave. He knew he would. Something moved in the shadows to grab his attention. He crouched and crept slowly along the wall. Keeping his back as close to the wall as possible without scraping it against the stone, he monitored the lab for whatever, or whomever was there.

He heard a gasp, then his name from a feminine voice. "My God, you're naked!" She lifted a hand to cover her eyes. "Why are you naked?"

"Later," he hissed. "Now get out of here, Anna."

"No," she objected. "I will stay and fight. You need my help."

His temper was growing shorter. "Fine. I don't have time to argue. Just stay out of the way." A moment later he shifted into the werewolf form in a motion of almost graceful transformation. It only slowed him down for a moment. Either Carl's cure hadn't actually worked or it didn't 'cure' so much as 'change'.

He no longer felt Anna's presence nearby, so assumed she had taken his advice and made her way out of the lab to somewhere safer. For the time being, he didn't have time to focus on that. Dracula was soon to find him and he needed to be ready.

He felt a familiar power and strength rushing through his body. The difference, this time, was that he was in complete control - at least as far as he could tell. More than anything, it was different from being the wolf under Dracula's control.

* * *

As Mesoraco passed the window, he thought he had seen something. He stepped back to look again. He was almost certain he had seen Van Helsing transform into a werewolf as Carl was turning to walk away.

"What has that infernal friar done now?" he growled to himself. He already had more than enough to do on this mission. Adding Carl committing treasonous acts was not part of the plan. But he would do what he must.

He had been searching for Van Helsing in order to bring him in, but had to divert his attentions to Carl first. He knew where Van Helsing was right now, he could find the man again later if necessary.

He slapped a hand against the rough, icy stone, then stalked down the path. Corridor after corridor, down stairs and around corners, he searched for Carl. He would search all night if he needed to, but he would find that friar and get some answers.

* * *

"I see you've found your way out of my manacles. Though, it is a shame that you did. We were just starting to have fun." Dracula's raspy accented voice echoed around the lab.

Van Helsing roared in response. He considered throwing thoughts at Dracula, but decided against it. Too afraid Dracula would gain an advantage through them. Instead he gave another hearty roar.

Dracula laughed that raspy chuckle of his. "My my, Gabriel. It's not as good as the first time, but it should do just as well." Dracula strode toward the center of the lab. "So tell me, Gabriel, are we going to fight or do you plan to lurk in the shadows?"

That was all the taunting he needed. Though, he never had any intention of remaining in the shadows. He leapt from the edge of the room, landed on Dracula and pinned him to the floor. His muzzle less than an inch from the vampire's face, he breathed hot canine breath on him.

"You want to play with me, Gabriel?" Dracula asked. He curled a hand around one of Van Helsing's forelegs, then launched the wolf toward the ceiling and, lightning fast, transformed into his own beast form. "Can you fly?" he asked as the wolf started his descent from twenty feet in the air.

On the way back toward the laboratory floor, Van Helsing reached out his claws grappling for purchase on a machine or pseudo-outcropping from the walls. His two front claws grabbed hold, but didn't have enough grip to keep his weight up. He slipped and tumbled to the floor, landed hard on the cold stone and machinery.

The Dracula beast swooped down to catch the wolf by his scruff and toss him across the lab again. This time, Van Helsing was prepared. He turned himself in the air and caught the ledge ten feet up on the side of the lab.

"Do you remember what I told you, Gabriel?" Dracula asked as he landed on another ledge, his beast wings folding away behind him as he melted back to his more human form. "I said we were partners. Brothers in Arms." He paced along the ledge. "We were, you know. Brothers in every way but blood." He took a deep, unneeded breath, purely for effect. "It pains me, Gabriel, that you don't remember us. How intimate we were."

The wolf melted away, leaving Van Helsing standing on the ledge opposite Dracula. "Why would I remember that?"

Dracula roared in pain and frustration, arms flailed out to his sides, hands curled into fists. "Why do you keep blocking your past? Blocking me?"

"I'm not blocking anything. I don't remember knowing you before we met at Castle Frankenstein." Van Helsing was stalling, needing to catch his breath, give his body a rest. He gained strength and power as the wolf, but neither came without penalty. All he could hope for was a quick refractory period.

"You need to remember, Gabriel. We were happy for some time, before it all went wrong!" Dracula bellowed across the lab.

Van Helsing breathed deeply, "I don't know what it is you think I should remember. And right now, it doesn't matter. My memories and past have no bearing on the situation at hand." He had regained some vague memories, but he couldn't give Dracula that satisfaction. Not yet. Not before he was sure the others were safe.

"Then you leave me no choice, Gabriel," Dracula snarled and leapt into the air. His bat-like wings stretched behind him as he changed form again, coasting across the lab. Van Helsing wasted no time meeting the beast in the air. He landed on Dracula's back, like a man trying to ride a bronco.

It caught Dracula off-guard. Van Helsing knew the vampire would be expecting him to change form. Leaping onto the beast's back was his best advantage.

The beast bucked around, trying to dislodge Van Helsing. He kept hold, arm locked around the Dracula beast's neck, even through being slammed repeatedly, against the hard, jagged walls of the lab. He felt fresh blood trickling down his back as the wounds there opened again.

* * *

Mesoraco pressed Carl against the wall, the friar's shoulders butted against the stone. "What did you do to him?" the operative snarled, his face close to Carl's.

Angry at being questioned based on pure ignorance of the gravity of the current situation, Carl snapped, "I saved his life!" More than anything, he hated being treated like he didn't know what he was doing. He frequently was aware of exactly what he was doing. He couldn't always predict the outcome, but he rarely was clueless about his motives or endeavors. The fact that some blockhead 'monster hunter' was questioning his expertise only served to anger him more.

"Saved his life?" Mesoraco snarled. "You've turned him into a werewolf, you fool!"

Standing firm, fully aware of his surroundings and what his developed 'antidote' had actually done, he replied. "No, he was already a werewolf. I gave him control." That hadn't been the original intended effect, but it was better than the alternatives.

"Control?"

Carl nodded. "He can change at will."

Mesoraco shook his head in confusion. "Like a shape-shifter."

"Well I suppose that's an apt descriptor, yes."

"And how do you know he won't turn on The Order and go rogue?"

Carl tilted his head. "How do we know you won't?"

Mesoraco snarled and released his hold on Carl's shoulders. "Enough. We need to find him and get him back to Rome." He turned on his heel, then back over his shoulder to ask Carl, "Any idea where they might be?"

"In the castle?" Carl replied uninterested in offering additional aid in finding his friend so these yes-men could take him back as a prisoner.

Snarling his unhappiness, Mesoraco stalked back to growl in Carl's face. "Impede my search and you will join Van Helsing in a cell upon return."

Carl gave no reaction to the threat at all. He would not show weakness. Not in front of these men. Not if his strength could help Van Helsing somehow. _That_ was what mattered – Van Helsing.


	9. Chapter 9

Anna exited the laboratory and ran in the direction she believed would lead her to the rendezvous point. She could only hope she didn't get lost in the maze of corridors. As she passed one of the corridors, she caught sight of a small troop of Dwergi marching with extreme determination. They had obviously found something.

She followed. Kept her distance so they wouldn't be alerted to her presence.

How she hadn't noticed it before, she couldn't say, but the castle was incredibly cold. She knew it was essentially an 'icy fortress', and that the weather outside never seemed to be anything other than winter. It left a nearly solid chill in the air that never quite went away. She wasn't _cold_, but she could feel the lack of heat in the air.

How horrible that must have been for both Velkan and Van Helsing. Cold days and nights on top of being under Dracula's control. She couldn't begin to imagine what that must have been like.

Those thoughts led her back to the night Van Helsing, as a werewolf, had come back to the castle. The night she'd asked him to change her so she could go with him. Be with him. And how disgusted by the idea he'd been. Thinking back, she realized that was a terrible idea. Her decision had been based solely in desperation. She missed her brother terribly and was in need of companionship. Had she become the beast she'd asked to become, she would have been subjected to the same fate as her brother and Van Helsing. Dracula's control. Ultimately, death.

She knew her own people would waste no time killing any werewolves that entered their territory. No matter who the person beneath the beast skin might be.

Dwergi weapons scraping along the icy stone walls drew her from her reverie. Pulled her focus back to her current task. She pressed her back flat against the wall and waited to be sure they hadn't noticed her presence. Sharp edges of rock poked through her leather corset that caused her to hiss in pain. She clapped a hand over her own mouth, hoping the Dwergi hadn't heard her. For a long moment, she didn't even breathe and couldn't bring herself to look down the corridor to see if any of the little creatures had turned back to see what the noise had been.

When nothing stabbed, poked or jabbed her after what seemed to be several minutes, she let her hand down and turned her head. The Dwergi hadn't come back to try to kill her. In fact, they were nowhere in sight. Had they just disappeared? She hadn't known they could do _that_.

Slowly, she started down the corridor again, in the same direction she'd been traveling before the brief, unplanned pause. Where the hell had those Dwergi gone? They couldn't have moved far from this corridor. They weren't that fast. Industrious, yes; swift movers, no.

Several meters from where she'd stopped was a turn in the corridor. Who had built this damned place? None of the corridors or pathways lead in entirely straight lines. How did Dracula ever find anything?

Anna peered around the corner before taking the turn herself. If there was something dangerous waiting on the other side, she wanted to be as prepared as possible. Of course, about the time she began to round the corner, she realized she didn't have much in the way of weaponry on her person. Little more than a couple swords and a knife or two. Van Helsing had the high-powered projectile weapons. Why hadn't she thought to have him show her how to use them?

Twenty steps later, she realized where the Dwergi had been heading – to a battle. A battle of many Dwergi against a handful of Knights of the Holy Order. The Knights appeared to be in need of back-up; no major injuries yet, but she was certain it was early on in the battle.

* * *

Carl was not entirely sure why Van Helsing had sent him to search for this woman, but he would do it because Van Helsing asked him to. He had said the woman needed help. Carl would do what he could to help her.

If he ever found her.

This damned castle, aside from being dark and frigid, was huge and confusing. He was certain he'd made three wrong turns and had gone in a circle at least twice. He was supposed to find the west tower, but he wasn't even sure which way west _was_.

And Dracula had failed to add helpful directional signs on the corridor crossways. Though, The Order had yet to manage that much, so he shouldn't be surprised that an evil bloodthirsty demon had not provided directional sign-age to aid his enemies in locating additional prisoners.

Sometimes Carl was sure he thought far too much about things. Other times, his 'too many thoughts' were exactly what was needed. Right now, however, was not one of those latter times. Van Helsing was preparing to fight Dracula (and hopefully win) and he was supposed to be rescuing some damsel in distress.

Him? Rescue? He was not some big damned hero. That was Van Helsing. The unpopular monster hunter who had performed amazing feats to bring down foes for The Order.

_Focus,_ he told himself. Van Helsing would be fine; he was responsible for locating this woman in the west tower. He peered up through the center of a winding staircase. The same one he had climbed before he found Van Helsing. "Huh, the west tower," he spoke to the walls, then started up the stairs.

After several minutes of climbing, he peered first up, then down the stairwell – not even half-way up. This was going to take a long time. _Longer if you keep stalling, Carl,_ he informed himself and started up the stairs again.

Several more climbing minutes later, he came to an opening in the wall. Curiosity got the better of him and he took that turn rather than climbing the rest of the stairs.

This opening led into a long corridor with very little light – natural or artificial. A very long corridor that continued for so far, Carl was sure he would wear out the soles of his boots reaching either an off-shoot or the end.

* * *

Anna watched the fight as it escalated. The men of The Order were battling heavily with a herd of Dwergi. She was waging small battles against the ones who wandered from the main fight.

She had positioned herself at the edge of the skirmish to strategically reduce the Dwergi numbers as best she could. There were already too many people part of the fight. Pushing herself to the center wouldn't be helpful.

One of Mesoraco's men was lurking in a corner across the room with the same idea. Between the two of them, maybe they could be enough of a distraction to make it out.

Maybe not. Several of the little creatures realized there were two enemies not surrounded by combatants and altered their paths to zone in on the loners. Anna turned and slipped into the corridor to draw the creatures away from the main battle. If she was going to have to fight more than one of these damned things at a time, she was going to make it to the advantage of _her_ side.

The Dwergi chattered and squawked at each other the whole time they were following her. They were fast but not as fast as she was. Still armed, she thought she might be able to pick off one or two, but she didn't want to risk a misstep and end up on the wrong end of a Dwergi weapon.

She kept her pace, up stairs, around corners, down long stretches of dark corridors. At the end of one, she slid to a halt in the center of a four-way intersection. A moment later, she pressed her back against the wall beside the corridor she had just left. The Dwergi clattered out and scuffled across to the way that continued ahead of them.

Anna wasn't sure which of the other two she should take. She did know she didn't have much time to decide. The Dwergi were mostly workers who did as they were instructed, but they were not overly stupid. Eventually they would realize Anna was no longer fleeing from them and turn back to the crossroads.

Taking several deep breaths to clear her head, she chose the left corridor. It was dark and cold like the others but mostly straight. It also seemed to progress at a gradual decline. A few steps along, she started running again, wanting to give herself as much distance between the Dwergi and herself as possible.

Apparently her lead wasn't enough, she heard the familiar bone-chilling chatter and scuffle of the Dwergi in the corridor behind her. How had they managed to back track so fast?

* * *

Did this corridor have an end? Or branches? A steep drop-off into a giant hole? Anything? Carl walked and walked and walked until he was certain his legs would just stop and his torso would keep moving.

Three steps before he was ready to give up and sit down to rest, there was a turn to the left. His brain pondered 'straight or left' for about a nanosecond before his feet turned and took him down the new path. It was still walking, but it was at least walking in a new direction.

And had the echoes of a roaring werewolf sliding along the icy walls. That was unexpected. He offered up a brief prayer that he wouldn't be killed and that the werewolf didn't involve the woman Van Helsing had sent him to find.

He had one revolver loaded with silver bullets, but that was all the weaponry he had on him. Everything else had been given to Mesoraco and his men for battling the obstacles in the castle. Now he realized that might not have been the smartest plan. Though, in his defense, he hadn't planned to be away from Van Helsing for quite this long.

Carl stood in the corridor for a long time debating whether or not to follow the sound of the werewolf roar. Van Helsing had asked him to find this woman. As a friend, that was what he would do.

He pointed his feet in the direction of the sound and made his way carefully toward it. Several steps down the corridor, he drew his one weapon in preparation. He felt his heart thumping loudly somewhere around his throat as he continued.

The thumping didn't go away when another cross-path presented itself. Now he had three options: left, right, straight ahead. Technically, there was a fourth – go back the way he had come – but that wasn't part of the plan.

Until another, louder, werewolf roar ripped down through the darkness. Carl gave up on the mission, turned and _ran_ back down the dark corridor, slid into the turn and aimed himself toward that staircase. Finding out about this mystery woman of Van Helsing's wasn't nearly as important as not being eaten to death by a werewolf.

* * *

Anna ran from the herd of Dwergi, legs burning with exertion. To avoid the coming onslaught, she slipped through a door and threw it closed behind her. She leaned heavily against it to catch her breath.

When the heavy, furred beast smashed her into the door, she didn't even have time to react. She barely had time to register that the creature coming at her was a werewolf as it flew across the room. The trajectory happened to land it against the door Anna had just closed. She had the unfortunate disadvantage of not being able to move out of the way before the werewolf's body impacted the door.

She was conscious for a moment after the impact and the last thing she saw was Van Helsing, in wolf form, lifting her gently to his chest.

A heavy claw raked across Van Helsing's back, breaking skin and drawing a roar of pain from the beast. He set Anna's limp, broken body aside, then turned to deal with his attacker.

Dracula shifted back to his human form. "We've been here before, Gabriel. Do you remember what happened the last time?" He stepped backwards gingerly, avoiding broken machinery and stone scattered on the floor.

Van Helsing retained his wolf form and snarled at Dracula. _Indeed we have but I have no intention of repeating the previous outcome,_ he thought, letting Dracula hear his thoughts.

"Oh my dear, Gabriel, you believe you have control." The vampire laughed. "I still can manipulate your body, my pet." To prove this, he pinned the wolf against a frozen column in the center of the lab without benefit of physical exertion. "My pet, I will miss our time together. If only it hadn't come to this."

A loud explosion shook one side of the lab. Carl had either set a sufficient distraction or blown himself up elsewhere in the castle. Dracula's hold on Van Helsing faltered. The wolf pounced and pinned the vampire beneath his large paws, snout dripping saliva onto Dracula's face. _This cannot continue!_ he snarled mentally.

Van Helsing adjusted his position and shed the wolf skin easily, despite the full moon shining brightly through the window. He kept his hand and shin pressed against the vampire's chest. "Surrender, and perhaps you won't need to die tonight," he said.

Dracula blinked in disbelief. "How? How are you able to change from the wolf of your own accord?" he asked, not attempting to remove himself from his position on the floor.

"Inventive and resourceful friends." Van Helsing leaned closer to Dracula's face, "Your control is slipping."

"So you think, Gabriel." He pushed and changed into his beast form, tossed Van Helsing off his chest and leapt into the air, hovered above the lab floor. He curled his fingers around an invisible throat. Van Helsing choked and grabbed at his own throat, gasping for air as he was lifted from the floor. "I think my control is perfect, Gabriel." He closed his fingers a fraction of an inch more.

Van Helsing felt his air slipping away. His vision began to blur and his lungs began to burn. If Dracula didn't let him go soon, all the work he had done to break free, that Carl had done to save him, that Anna had done to help, would be for naught. He needed to find a way out of this quickly.

"Gabriel, your face is red. Are you blushing, my pet?" Dracula asked, laughing heartily.

The moment of laughter was enough. It gave Van Helsing time to twist and kick and break free. He fell to the floor clutching his throat and gasping for much needed air. "It doesn't have to end like his," he yelled, hoarse as his voice was, across the lab. "There is another way."

Dracula strafed Van Helsing's head, knocked him end-over-end to tumble across the rough lab floor. The beast landed on a high catwalk-like structure and regained human form. "No, this is exactly how this has to end." He leapt into the air again, changed form and dove at Van Helsing on the floor below.

Van Helsing rolled across the floor and came up in a crouch twenty feet away. He knelt, waiting, ready to pounce into an attack.

* * *

"Aleksandr!" Van Helsing called the vampire's true name. The name he had known so many years ago. Tired and worn down from the fight, he dropped himself to one knee to catch his breath.

Dracula turned to his kneeling pet. "So, you finally remember me, Gabriel? What could you possibly say to me now to prevent me killing you?" he snarled, drops of spittle bubbling from his lips.

"I can give you a choice," he replied.

Dracula laughed, hearty and deep. "What choice could you give me? You have nothing that I want, Gabriel."

Van Helsing pushed himself to his feet, regaining his full height. Being naked no longer bothered him, not after these last few months. He walked up to Dracula and stared him down without fear. "The choice I can give you is: salvation or death."

The deep chuckle that erupted from the vampire was like a nearby clap of thunder. "You think you can save me... or kill me?"

Van Helsing nodded. "Both," he responded, certain he could succeed at either undertaking. He gave a soft head-shake. "Neither would be easy. In fact, salvation would be the hardest thing you've ever done."

"You cannot save me. Gabriel. You can't even save yourself."

He took a deep, irritated breath. Dracula wasn't catching on to the graveness of the situation. Van Helsing needed to give him a push. A taste of the reality of what was happening "Aleksandr, I'm giving you a gift," he said, voice smooth and even. "Most men don't get the choice."

Dracula reached to curl a hand around the back of Van Helsing's neck. To draw him forward into the intimate embrace. "I love you, Gabriel," his voice strained as he spoke, "but I can't go back to who I was before. I'm not that man anymore."

Van Helsing's eyes drifted closed, then reopened. "You can start again. Start clean. Rebuild from the ground up. It is possible." He knew it. He'd done it. Once that he was sure of – shortly after the man he had known as Aleksandr had decided to become Vladislas Dragula.

* * *

_Transylvanian-region of Europe - 1532_

The room he had been placed in felt small and dark. Cloying. The hood over his head wasn't helping that feeling any. He hadn't realized how nerve wracking waiting for this procedure would be. He had requested it after he had been forced, via circumstances beyond his control, to kill his closest friend.

He didn't want to remember that day or the events leading up to it. But it wasn't until Aleksandr made a pact with the devil that The Order agreed to fulfill his request. Van Helsing had concluded that The Order wouldn't perform this procedure as anything other than a punishment. Apparently losing the soul of Aleksandr to the devil was enough to qualify him for punishment.

Though, as far as he could determine, he had not been at all responsible for Aleksandr's decision to become a bloodthirsty demon. He assumed The Order was using that as a valid reason for administering the procedure Van Helsing had requested.

He clearly remembered every moment of today - The Order guards dragging him from his bed, not allowing him the chance to put on clothing, the hood being slipped over his head, being shoved into the narrow corridor outside his room. His room was nothing lavish or even tasteful, but it was 'home' when he was in Rome. And it was familiar. Walking the corridor with no sense of sight and a distorted sense of hearing was not familiar. He couldn't determine if people were looking at him, watching him, or if they had all been told to stay in their quarters.

He was led down several other corridors, much the same as the first, to an open area where he had been traded off to a new set of guards. Then more corridors that felt a lot more like tunnels, followed by one more hand-off before he was led down the final tunnel to the room in which he now waited.

Was the waiting supposed to be the punishment? That was almost harder than deciding to have them do this. He hated waiting. He was sure they knew that and added it as part of the torture.

The chair they had sat him on was hard and uncomfortable, but the floor beneath his bare feet was rough and cold. He was surprised they had waited until he was in this room to bind his hands. Though, he hadn't fought them at all after the initial struggle in his chambers.

Now, he waited for them to return and either lead him somewhere new or administer the procedure in this room. Again, the waiting was the hardest part. He figured, if he could survive the waiting, the rest would be easy.

His heart raced when he heard the door open, the adrenaline rushed though his body in anticipation of getting this over with. Hefty hands pulled him from the chair and dragged him through a door on the opposite side of the room. The last thing he remembered before they strapped him to the table was the Cardinal telling him his sins would be forgiven if he confessed them now.

He didn't remember making any confessions, though he may have. Mostly he remembered people bustling about, then the flick of a switch.

The next memory he could recall was waking in the infirmary. He was told he had been in a fight and had a hit his head on something solid and hard during the battle, resulting in his apparent memory loss.

He asked who he had been fighting, but was told they were unable to provide him with that information. He wanted to know why and the answer was purported to be for his safety. Safety was irrelevant. He wanted to take down the creature who robbed him of his memories. He wanted those back.

The medics and healers made sure he rested for the prescribed number of days before allowing him to return to his usual routine. A routine dictated by The Order to keep him busy most of the day. He would get meals and time for sleep, but the rest of his time was spent re-learning weapons and running drills with the occasional hour set aside for reading and prayer.

Obviously someone in The Order thought a near-fatal bump on the head would change Van Helsing's mind about focusing more on prayer. Someone could not have been more wrong.

* * *

_Dracula's Castle – 1890_

This was the first time in his memory that he could recall advocating the removal or suppression of ones memories. For any reason. The process was painful, unpleasant and dangerous, but he had considered it worth it to avoid the darker pain of having killed his closest friend. He had the vaguest recollection of going through the process a second time, but nothing concrete.

"You cannot save me, Gabriel," Dracula stated firmly. "I've fallen far beyond redemption."

"No!" Van Helsing snarled. "You haven't, Aleksandr," he countered, speaking Dracula's true name as a way to connect with his old friend. "Even you, even now, can be redeemed. If only you will let me help you."

Dracula shook his head. Then he leaned forward meeting Van Helsing's dry chapped lips with his own cold ones, felt the warmth of his pet overflowing against him. "I'm sorry, Gabriel, even God can't help me now." He stepped backward toward the gateway mirror.

Van Helsing moved to stop him, but he found himself impaired by Dracula's control. The mental hold on him had yet to break. Van Helsing could do nothing.

******

A door at the far end of the chamber slammed open with a loud crack of wood against stone. "Van Helsing!" Mesoraco shouted into the lab and stalked through the debris. A brown-robed man scuffled in behind him a moment later.

"Oh my God," Carl gasped, then headed for Van Helsing's side. He stopped short when he heard the sound of a bolt being laid into a crossbow. He turned to see who was the target.

"Move out of the way, Carl," Mesoraco snarled, his crossbow trained on Van Helsing.

"No," Carl insisted and settled himself more firmly between the weapon and his friend.

Van Helsing tried to move his arms, to shove the friar out of the way. "Let him take me, Carl."

"No," the friar repeated.

"It's all right, Gabriel. You have everything you need," Dracula told him softly and stepped through the gateway mirror into the bright, afternoon light at Castle Valerious.

Suddenly Van Helsing was free and charged for the mirror to stop Dracula. Mesoraco, at the same time, released the bolt toward the mirror to catch the vampire. The metal tip buried itself firmly in Van Helsing's left thigh. His howl of pain echoed through the cavernous hallways.

He wanted to jerk the bolt from his flesh, but Carl, quick on his feet, stopped him. "No, you'll bleed to death."

Face full of agony and defeat, Van Helsing responded, "I know."

Carl had never seen the man this distraught. "Please, Gabriel, I can't let you die here."

Men bound his arms and legs – Carl fought them more than he did - then was carried through the same gateway mirror Dracula had used moments ago. Carl followed closely behind, making sure they didn't hurt Van Helsing.

* * *

Hidalgo had entered the lab two steps behind Carl and Mesoraco. They both missed what he saw immediately - the body of Anna Valerious. The woman was in a small heap just beyond the door. Hidalgo scooped her into his arms, balancing his weapon against his arm at the same time.

He couldn't figure out how she had died, but he was certain Van Helsing had something to do with it. If he had just completed his mission, none of this would have been necessary. How difficult could it be to take out one vampire? One vampire.

Across the lab, he saw Mesoraco fire a crossbow bolt at the vampire. He saw the bolt hit Van Helsing instead as the vampire stepped into a mirror. A mirror? Another one? Is that how this vampire moved from this castle to other locations? Could all vampires do that? Or was this something specific to Dracula?

Mesoraco called for all the operatives to get through the mirror back to Castle Valerious. Hidalgo watched as Mesoraco's men bound Van Helsing and dragged him through the mirror. He saw Carl move through close behind them.

Hidalgo stepped up to the portal, Anna's body still draped over his arms. Mesoraco gave a solemn nod, then directed him through the mirror. He angled Anna and himself gently through the portal to the other side. Several of the operatives stood nearby to offer aid and condolences. The gesture was appreciated. Appreciated, but not necessary just now. There was still work to do. He was not yet ready to mourn. That would have to wait.


	10. Chapter 10

"Where do you think you're going?" Mesoraco snarled at Carl and pressed a hand against his chest. Halting his entry to the lower deck.

Carl drew up his shoulders as straight as they could go. He was not going to back down on this. "I am going to sit and pray and give aid to the man who is under my care. Would you rather explain to the Cardinal why the man you were meant to rescue can't put two words together to give a report?"

He may have jumped the gun with the vague threat but it didn't matter once Mesoraco stepped aside and let him go to Van Helsing's cell. The steps down to the lower deck were narrow and dark. They creaked under even Carl's light steps. The ship was made of old wood - sturdy but old - and Carl could feel every creak, every shift of the water beneath them.

He arrived shakily at the door to Van Helsing's cell. For a moment he had to lean against the wall, steady his feet under himself. Softly, he tapped on the door as he pushed it open slowly. "Gabriel," he spoke quietly, and poked his head around the door.

The man inside the cell made no sound at all. Carl wasn't sure the man was alive until he heard him breathing. Carl stepped fully into the cell, but waited to close the door.

"Gabriel, why did you cover the porthole?" he asked as he started blinked against the darkness to adjust his eyes to it.

A soft growl emanated from one corner. "Don't need to see... to see what I am."

Carl frowned. "What are you talking about? You're a man. And you're my friend. Do you mind if I let in some light? I don't see as well in the dark as you do." There was another sound from the corner, but no words. "Gabriel?"

"Fine, slowly..."

Carl assumed he meant for him to remove the cover from the porthole slowly. He did exactly that. Slowly the light entered the room. Not much light, but enough for him to locate Van Helsing in the small cell. He also spotted an oil lamp on the little table by the door. That was reassuring.

"Do you want me to close the door?" he asked using his gentle 'priest' voice.

Van Helsing shrugged and shook his head. "Don't care."

Carl pushed the door closed. He leaned against it a moment, gathering himself. It pained him to see Van Helsing broken and damaged as he was. He had seen Van Helsing return from missions covered in, scrapes, scratches, gashes and contusions, as well as with broken bones and lacerations deep enough to need stitches. Nothing, however, had prepared him for this.

Van Helsing sat in the corner with a blanket wrapped tightly around his body. He said nothing at all unless prodded by someone - usually Carl. (He'd sat in on the first round of questions Mesoraco had put him through and had needed to prompt Van Helsing a few times to get answers for The Order.) Periodically he would sway or rock, but otherwise, he was motionless.

Moving slowly, Carl made his way to Van Helsing and knelt beside him. He slid a hand along his shoulder. "Gabriel, are you okay?"

In response, Van Helsing leaned his head against Carl's chest. No sound, no other motion, he just leaned in for comfort. Carl slid his arms around his fallen friend and held him close.

"I'm here, Gabriel. For anything you need." He glanced around the small, dim cell and sighed. "We're going to be on this ship for a long time. If you'd like to talk about anything you went through, I want you to know, I'm here to listen for as long as you need."

It took time, but, eventually, Van Helsing opened up and recounted to Carl a number of events of his capture. He spoke of the small, colorless cell and the painful transitions from man to werewolf and back. Of how exhausting the transitions were, how jarring, as he had no warning for when the clouds would move. He only had any concept of time at all because of the werewolf transitions during the full moon. And, even then, he wasn't certain all of the times he changed skins were a direct result of the moon phases given the sheer amount of control Dracula had.

That all gave Carl chills. The descriptions and stories had him tightening his arms around Van Helsing. Holding him closer with each break of the man's voice. But, when Van Helsing began to talk about the abusive aspects of his capture, Carl felt white hot anger building in his bones, it ran so deep. He swore, if Dracula wasn't already dead, he would undertake the task of killing him on his own.

Van Helsing sighed against Carl's chest when he felt him tense beneath his cheek. "Could have been worse," he said.

"That was pretty bad," Carl countered, "None of that was okay. No matter who he used to be."

"I know." He took a long drink of water before he spoke again. "But I don't want to have to save you too."

Carl bent his head forward, pressed a soft kiss to Van Helsing's hair, then curled himself around the man. He understood what Van Helsing meant. He understood that he needed him in order to survive the aftermath of everything he'd been through and Carl knew he needed to be strong to do that.

"You won't have to save me, Gabriel," he reassured him.

******

The rest of the trip to Rome was spent much the same as the earlier portions - Carl holding Van Helsing close while the man recounted experiences as he thought he needed. Carl made brave attempts not to go into internal violent rages when the stories became too intense. He fared well unless Van Helsing mentioned any form of torture or sexual assault.

As much as Van Helsing wanted him to listen without judgment and reaction, he couldn't prevent either. He may have been a friar, but he was also a man. It was times like these that the man held more prevalence than he would prefer. It was difficult for him to push his emotions aside for a friend as close as Van Helsing. If that made him a bad friar, he would have to live with that and beg Him for forgiveness.

* * *

Surprise wasn't the only emotion to register when the Spaniard pushed Van Helsing roughly against the wall. Van Helsing growled in anger and groaned in pain as his shoulders hit the stone. His body had not yet healed enough for him to be handled so roughly. The interrogations from Mesoraco were bad enough and had involved no physical contact; being shoved into a wall jarred him too much.

"If you want me that badly, you'll have to wait in line," he growled. It was the best he could manage under the circumstances.

Hidalgo growled back at him. "You murdered the Princess!"

Van Helsing sighed. "Poor word choice. She was killed. It wasn't a murder."

"You killed her. Murder or not, it is your fault she's dead," Hidalgo hissed.

It had taken some serious conversations and prayer sessions with Carl to realize that Anna's death was not his fault. Anna had been fully aware of the dangers involved and had chosen to make the rescue attempt anyway. She wanted to help get him out of Dracula's clutches. Carl had been fine with that choice. As had Mesoraco. Nothing Van Helsing had done had led to Anna's death. Not directly.

"I didn't," Van Helsing maintained. "She chose her path. Willingly. No one forced her. You met Anna. She was an independent woman. No one told her what to do."

That refueled some of the anger. Hidalgo at least released Van Helsing's shoulders. He groaned in relaxed relief, his sore muscles and bones barely ready for walking much less such rough handling. Especially the kind that didn't have a fun upside.

Hidalgo gave a huffy snort in response.

Van Helsing's brow wrinkled. "Why do you care so much?" He saw Hidalgo blink and glare at him. That's when he realized it. "I see. I am sorry. She was an amazing woman." He paused a moment. "She's also free. Her family as well. With Dracula's death, the family is free to enter the Kingdom of Heaven." He offered a nod of acknowledgment. "It is unfortunate that her death was part of that freedom."

Hidalgo was silent. Stoic, even.

"Anna once told me, Transylvanians look on the brighter side of death." He sighed gently. "Until this conversation, I wasn't sure exactly what she meant by that."

"Thank you," Hidalgo said with a quick nod of his head, then he slipped away down the hall.

Van Helsing watched the man as he walked away. He wasn't sure he'd been much help, but he believed what he'd said. He understood Anna's words now, words that had puzzled him when she'd said them. He had to believe there was something better. That if Aleksandr wanted to, he could find himself in paradise, rather than spending forever eternally damned.

* * *

"Señor Hidalgo," Carl greeted the man as they met in the hallway, with that quiet tone so many holy men either have naturally or acquire over time. He placed a gentle hand on the man's shoulder.

Hidalgo blinked at the friar, then away.

"How are you faring?" He knew that answer, but asked the question anyway. "Would you like help arranging the funeral?"

Hidalgo's shoulders visibly relaxed, though his face still held a look of grief.

"She has no family left who can arrange the funerary proceedings. I'll help put them together according to her family's traditions, if you'd like."

Hidalgo nodded. "Thank you, Carl." He took a deep breath and looked up at the friar. "How is Van Helsing doing?" he asked.

Surprised, Carl gave himself a moment to collect his thoughts. "Physically, he needs a few weeks to recover. Mentally, he'll need a lot longer and a lot of support." He took a moment again. "He spent four months under the mind control of a powerful demon."

"Mind control?" Hidalgo asked, confused.

Carl nodded. "Yes. Dracula had a very strong hold on him that he was unable to break."

Hidalgo's mouth bent into a frown. "If that's true, how did he manage to break free and fight Dracula?"

For a moment, Carl said nothing. He needed to collect his thoughts again. He wasn't sure whether or not he should tell. He figured he could hide the truth a little without having to embellish too much of the story. "I was responsible for most of his break from the mind control. Van Helsing's strong will power managed the rest." It wasn't a lie. But it was enough truth that he was okay with the explanation - both for himself as well as Van Helsing.

"He's a bit of a stubborn bastard, isn't he?" Hidalgo commented.

Carl couldn't keep a tight enough leash on the chuckle that bubbled out of his chest. "That is a colorful way of interpreting his personality." On the inside, he sighed in relief that Hidalgo was satisfied with his willpower explanation.

* * *

It wasn't until later, after he'd been asleep for eight days, that Van Helsing remembered what had happened to Anna. And what Carl had learned of Velkan and the Valerious family. When Carl came to visit him, he rolled his head away to face the wall. It was all too much to handle at the  
moment.

Somehow, Carl understood that. He sat patiently by Van Helsing's bed, waiting for the man to come to terms with everything that had happened. Carl didn't press him or fawn over him. He was just there. And Van Helsing appreciated that.

It took him months before he was ready to speak to Carl in more detail about what had happened to him as Dracula's captive. Dragging it all back hurt and scared him. It was painful to speak of it, yet Carl never once judged him for any actions he had taken.

Carl's amazingly understanding nature and absolute desire to make sure Van Helsing was safe did more for Van Helsing's recovery than any of The Order's psychological experts' 'help'. Dogged persistence and a sympathetic, non-judgmental ear were far superior to a laundry list of questions he could never answer.

Van Helsing sat staring out the window of his room any number of days of the week. That is where Carl found him when he came looking one afternoon. He entered the room and closed the door gently.

"Thank you," Van Helsing said softly.

"You're welcome," Carl responded. He didn't have to ask 'for what', he already knew -everything.

Still watching the world outside the window, he spoke in a whisper: "I could have saved him."

"Some don't want to be saved, Gabriel.'"

"Don't call me that anymore."

Carl nodded and folded his hands at the small of his back. "What should I call you then?"

Van Helsing shook his head, rocked it back and forth against the back of the chair. "Choose something."

"Michael," Carl offered after a brief moment's thought. "It keeps with the theme without sounding overly pretentious."

That almost made Van Helsing smile. "I can live with that." He could live with that much easier than with the knowledge of what he'd done to both Anna and Aleksandr. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to push those images from his mind. Even with Carl's help. But, with the determined friar by his side, he ought to be able to sleep through more nights than not.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Where There is Darkness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3230987) by [cycerine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cycerine/pseuds/cycerine)




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